


Harry's Happiest Christmas

by LostOpportunity



Series: Fractals [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Blow Jobs, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Family, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Horny Teenagers, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Loss of Virginity, Makeover, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mistletoe, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Spanking, Switching, Teasing, Teen Romance, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOpportunity/pseuds/LostOpportunity
Summary: Harry and Ginny get together during Christmas of his 6th year, and things quickly escalate.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Fractals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902376
Comments: 24
Kudos: 215





	1. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry can't sleep, but finds something much sweeter than dreams.

_18th December, 1996_

“You need help with that?”

Ron’s words jerked Ginny out of her thoughts back to where she was, standing in the living room doorway, holding a sprig of mistletoe that she was clearly too short to pin to the doorframe.

“I’m perfectly capable of hanging something by myself, _thank you very much,”_ she spat back at Ron, trying her best to look annoyed instead of embarrassed. He rolled his eyes, muttered something that sounded like _“just can’t win,”_ and continued into the kitchen to help Mum prepare for dinner. That was the third brother she had shooed away after trying to help her and she was getting impatient.

But then she saw a pair of trainers descending the stairs, followed by a pair of slender legs wearing jeans, a torso that had deliciously become _lean_ rather than _scrawny_ recently, and finally a handsome face topped with messy black hair.

“Harry!” Ginny called, “can you help me hang the mistletoe? I can’t reach.” She smiled and tried to bat her eyelashes in a Phlegm-like way, hoping she didn’t simply look like she had allergies.

Harry’s face turned scarlet. “Uh...sure,” he muttered, nervously messing with the hair on the back of his head. He really needed to learn that was a dead giveaway.

He tentatively walked up to her, resembling a deer approaching a treat, and took the mistletoe from her. He stretched, standing up on his tiptoes, and pinned the decoration to the top of the doorframe. As he stretched, his t-shirt rode up, giving Ginny a delightful view of his toned stomach, and she had to bite her lip when she spotted the waistband of his boxers poking out over the top of his jeans. Not for the first time, Ginny was extremely grateful he had finally bought some muggle clothes that fit him.

Ginny positioned herself so that when Harry looked back down, she was right in front of him, almost touching. Harry jumped when he saw how close she was and his eyes widened.

“That—” he cleared his throat to cover up the squeak he let out “—That good?” he asked, pointing up.

Ginny cocked her head to the side and tried to give an innocent-looking smile. “Perfect,” she declared, looking at him and not the mistletoe, “my hero, as always.”

She was holding her hands together in front of her, her arms straight down her front, so that her arms pushed her breasts together in her tank top, and she felt a rush of victory as his eyes darted down to her cleavage and his face turned even more red.

Ron’s voice broke the tension as he called to Harry to get his arse in the kitchen and help him chop sprouts. 

Harry broke eye contact, avoided her gaze and started scratching the back of his head again. “I should...uh….” he mumbled, pointing towards the kitchen and made a move to leave.

“Ah ah ah!” she tutted, grabbing him by the bicep (which he had now, apparently), “Not so fast. Mistletoe, you know the rules.” Before he could escape, or she could lose her nerve, she stood on her tiptoes, pulled him down slightly, and planted a firm, deliberate kiss on his cheek. She felt a jolt shoot through her core, but by some Christmas miracle she managed to resist the urge to abandon her plan and snog him senseless right then and there. She pulled back with a bright smile, only getting a brief look at his gobsmacked expression before she told him to go help with the sprouts, quickly spun away from him (making sure to wave her hair directly in his face) and returned to her paper chains without looking back.

After several seconds, she heard Ron call after Harry again and Harry finally started making his way into the kitchen. With a self-satisfied smirk, she hoped that the poor boy wouldn’t be so distracted that he cut a finger off, after what she just did to him. She contemplated how bad it would be if she just marched into the kitchen now, wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, buried her face in his back and just breathed him in. She shook her head to clear it. No. She had a plan and she was sticking to it.

Of course she had noticed when Harry finally had the mind-blowing realization that Ginny was—perish the thought— _a girl_ . She had spent too long hoping for all the signs to miss them when they happened: his blush whenever she sat down next to him, the way his face lit up whenever she paid him a compliment, the teasing banter that their every conversation seemed to devolve into, and it was absolutely _adorable_ how he seemed to genuinely think he was being subtle when he stared at her arse while walking back from Quidditch practice.

But as much as she had been looking forward to this ever since she ran after a black-haired boy on Platform Nine-and-three-Quarters as the train pulled away, she found that she enjoyed being the one longed after for a change. Harry had to learn that he couldn’t just take her for granted, and Dean was a hot bloke and a good snog, so she let Harry know what it was like when the shoe was on the other foot for a while.

But her smug sadism was shattered when Luna had excitedly told her that Harry had asked her to be his date to the Slug Club party. He had said it was just as a friend, but Luna was gorgeous, and earnest, and kind, and intelligent in her own unorthodox way, and delightfully funny without trying to be, and Ginny’s stomach twisted itself into knots at the thought of Harry suddenly noticing that the same way he had suddenly noticed Ginny. Her mind had been invaded by images of green eyes meeting blue-gray ones and electricity flying after Luna made some adorably nonsensical comment about a new subspecies of wrackspurt.

It was a slap in the face that told her she needed to stop playing games and finally get what she wanted. It was only the first day back at the Burrow for the Christmas holidays, but already her evil plan was showing excellent progress. She had one more week to properly torture Harry before giving him his Christmas present. She had had him on the hook long enough, it was time to reel him in.

* * *

  
  
_24th December, 1996_

Growing up, Harry had never particularly looked forward to Christmas. Christmas morning meant just another lump of coal for young Harry, another year learning that he had been put on the naughty list for something like burning the bacon one time back in March, or continuing to have messy hair. So he had never been one of those children to lie awake in anticipation on Christmas Eve.

Yet here he was, Christmas Eve 1996, lying awake on his camp bed in Ron’s bedroom, listening to his loud snores, thoroughly unable to go to sleep. But it had nothing to do with Father Christmas. It was due to someone far prettier.

_She has a boyfriend. She has a boyfriend. She has a boyfriend._

The mantra he had recited to himself countless times over the last few months was losing what little power it had, as said boyfriend was not here. It was getting harder to convince himself that all the affectionate touches and playful smirks were just the consequences of her becoming more comfortable around him, the same way she would around a friend or—perish the thought—a _brother_.

Since they had arrived at the Burrow, every time Harry sat down, Ginny seemed to just appear next to him, which caused him to become out of breath even more than usual, since despite the cold, she had a nasty habit of walking around the house in short shorts and tank tops, which of course would leave her shivering and huddling close to the nearest person (which was always Harry) to get warm, sometimes even draping a heavy blanket over both of them. And when she had to leave her seat, she would always put her hand on his thigh, just for an instant, to lift herself up, terrifying him that she might reach her hand up too high and discover in no uncertain terms what being that close to her did to him.

Even worse, she didn’t seem to be able to decide what to do with her hair. Every time he’d walk into a room, she’d have her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, but would soon after free it, shaking it out and letting her sunset hair fall around her bare, freckled shoulders, making Harry feel he was having a heart attack. He didn’t know why she even bothered tying her hair up in the first place.

He looked at the clock on Ron’s nightstand and saw it was almost midnight. Almost Christmas. Harry’s restless state made him find Ron’s contented snores annoying. With a huff, he threw the covers off and slipped out of the room. He made his way down to the kitchen, just to stretch his legs more than anything, but he figured he might as well try a warm glass of milk to help him sleep. He had heard that was a classic childhood remedy, but he never really had a childhood to try it out. 

As the milk was warming up on the stove, he sat at the table, running his fingers through his hair, thinking how he was going to survive the rest of the holidays without going mad.

He was jerked out of his randy brooding by a gasp from the doorway, “Oh. Harry.”

He looked up and there she was, but looking quite different then he had seen her in the past week. She was finally dressed for the weather, wearing full flannel pajamas, slippers, and a fluffy bathrobe. The sly confidence she had worn all week was replaced with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth in apparent surprise at finding him down here. Tired shadows under her eyes suggested she had been having just as much trouble sleeping as he had, a suspicion supported by the state of her hair. Instead of tied back in a neat ponytail or flowing silkily down her shoulders, it was matted in bed-head as if she had been tossing and turning. She looked—

_—hot._

Harry _still_ couldn’t stop that word from entering his mind whenever he looked at her. He doubted he could control himself even if she walked in wearing Ron’s old dress robes. 

He couldn’t help himself smile at her and as she looked at him, he was satisfied to see _she_ was the one who was blushing for once. For just a moment she was once again the 11-year-old who had put her elbow in the butter dish.

But the moment quickly passed. Ginny straightened herself up, made her mouth very thin, and scolded him in her best fake Scottish accent, “Out of bed after dark _again,_ Potter? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

Harry grinned and let out a whine, “But _Professoooor,_ it’s Christmas--"

" _No_ excuses, Potter," she tutted as she pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down, "Now you've got detention, too."

"Oh really?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow, "Well, what's my punishment, then?"

She pouted her lips thoughtfully (those brilliant, _perfect_ lips) and casually undid her bathrobe, slipping it off and draping it over the back of the chair. Harry was silently _begging_ her to keep going.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure, but I know I'll think of something."

An image flashed in Harry's mind of Ginny forcing his head between her legs as "punishment." He was very grateful his crotch was hidden under the table.

"So, uh," Harry said, trying to clear his head of the image, "why up so late? Nightmares? Or does Fleur snore as loud as Ron?"

Ginny snorted with laughter at the idea of the perfect veela upstairs doing something so imperfect. She shook her head, "No, actually I was kind of stressing out over how to give you your present tomorrow."

Harry furrowed his brow, "Uh, gift-wrapped under the tree like a normal person? You don't have to one-up people on _everything,_ you know."

Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes, "No, you prat, I mean it's….well it's not really something I can give you in front of everyone." She wasn't meeting his eyes. "Well, I suppose I _could_ , but it might cause a bit of a scene."

Harry had to remind the monster in his chest that she had probably just got him some new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product that her mother didn't approve of.

"Well," he told her, gesturing around to the empty room, "I don't see anybody here, why not just give it to me now?"

For a moment, something that looked like panic appeared in Ginny's eyes, but quickly passed and she wagged a finger at him disapprovingly.

"Ah ah ah, Potter," she tutted, pointing at the clock on the wall, which indicated it was still a few minutes until midnight, "not yet, it's still not Christmas."

He looked around, trying to look nervous, then leaned across the table at her and whispered conspiratorily, "No one would know. Come on, it will be our secret."

 _"Harry!"_ Ginny gasped, in her best impression of Hermione, "There are _rules._ It's not Christmas yet, there's still time to put you on the naughty list, mister."

Harry tried to pout, but he knew he would never be as good at it as her.

"Although," she continued, looking at him thoughtfully, "I suppose with your perfect track record, we can cut you some slack and allow you a bit of naughtiness."

Harry tried to ignore the somersault his stomach did at Ginny saying the word "naughtiness" and scoffed.

"'Perfect track record?' I break rules all the time. I got detention my first year."

Ginny seemed to drop all her usual sarcasm and smile at him completely sincerely.

"Yes, to help Hagrid save his pet. That makes you the most adorable delinquent ever. You break rules all the time, but always for some _….annoyingly_ noble reason."

He smiled, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence during which all he could do was beam at her like an idiot, while she gave him a calculating look that reminded him of Ron when he was about to thoroughly destroy Harry at chess.

Harry noticed his milk was warm, so he got up from the table and poured it into a glass. He turned and saw Ginny sniggering at him.

“What?” Harry asked, shrugging.

Ginny looked pointedly at the glass of milk. “Seriously?” she scoffed, “What are you, six years old?”

“Hey, I didn’t get to do this when I was actually six years old,” Harry said defensively, “What do _you_ suggest for insomnia, if you’re so clever, Weasley?”

She looked at him thoughtfully, biting her lip (sweet _Merlin_ did she know how to bite her lip), then got up from her chair and made her way to the cabinet under the kitchen sink. She bent down at her waist (presenting him with a rather spectacular view of her arse), and when she turned back around she was holding a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses, a devilish grin on her face.

Harry’s mouth fell open. “ _Miss Weasley!”_ he gasped “ _Now_ who’s trying to get on the naughty list?”

Ginny strutted up next to him and put both glasses on the table and started filling them up.

 _“Excuse_ me, Potter, I don’t like what you’re implying,” she said indignantly, “this is purely for medicinal purposes. Healer’s orders.”

“Oh, you’re a Healer as well as a Professor now?”

“I’m basically anything that makes you have to do as I say. Now stop being a prat and drink up.”

Harry lifted the glass to sniff it, and the smell alone burned his nostrils.

“Just so you know, if your parents walk in on us right now I’m _completely_ blaming you for this.”

Ginny gasped, beaming as she clasped her hands together in mock excitement, “Oh _Harry_ , you mean you’re finally going to take advantage of your Favorite Child status for nefarious ends? I’m so proud of you!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m not the fav—”

“Don’t you _dare_ try to dispute that,” Ginny warned him, “don’t worry, my parents are aware of what a bad influence I am over you.”

Ginny raised her glass, and Harry clinked his against hers, then he raised his glass to his lips and took a small sip. He wasn’t able to stop himself from choking and huffing as the liquid burned down his throat.

“Ha!” Ginny laughed, “Can’t handle a bit of the hard stuff, sweet boy?” and she downed her glass in one gulp, placed it empty upside-down on the table, and stared defiantly into his eyes.

But Harry was patient. Instead of looking impressed he just waited several seconds, when her face turned ruby red and her eyes started to water, until finally she bent over the table, coughing furiously.

He rubbed her back in sympathy. “Well now, Miss Weasley, I hope we’ve learned a valuable lesson,” Harry scolded her, “about the dangers of treating _everything_ like a competition. I’m not one of your brothers, you don’t have to always show me up.”

Ginny regained her composure and stared daggers at him, “Shut up, you git.”

Harry got lost looking into her face for several seconds before realizing that his hand was still on her back. He jerked away from her and took a step back, his eyes darting around the room for something to look at, noticing the clock on the wall.

_One minute to Christmas._

Harry cleared his throat loudly, “Is that why you skipped out on the Slug Club party?" he teased, "Afraid you would try to drink everyone else under the table?"

He really didn't like thinking about Ginny missing the party, because that led to him speculating about what she and Dean might have been doing instead. But that's exactly what he needed right now to control himself. Steer the conversation back to her boyfriend.

_She has a boyfriend. She has a boyfriend. She has a boyfriend._

Harry might not be a saint, but he would _not_ be one of those prats to make a move on another bloke's girlfriend. He will be respectful—

But then Ginny just shrugged and, casually-as-you-please, shattered Harry's entire world.

"Actually, I didn't go because I broke up with Dean earlier that night."

Harry froze, "Wh—What?"

"Yeah. He wasn't a _bad_ boyfriend, per se, we just weren't really connecting, you know? If we had stayed together, we'd probably end up splitting after a row over something stupid and petty. He just wasn't….The One for me."

Harry knew he wasn't hiding his reaction. His hitching breath, his flushing cheeks, she'd be able to read his face like a book, so he looked around again, spotting the clock.

_Thirty seconds to Christmas._

He focused intently on a spot on the table and tried to sound sympathetic.

"Oh. Well. I'm….I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you?"

His head jerked back to her and he saw her looking at him skeptically, with one eyebrow raised and an appraising look that made Harry wonder if she had been learning Legilimency.

"Of….of course I am," Harry stammered.

 _Twenty seconds to Christmas_.

"I mean….why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, stepping forward and closing the distance between them, leaving their bodies just inches apart, "Why wouldn't you be?"

Harry couldn't form an answer, he just loudly gulped.

_Ten seconds to Christmas._

" _Harry_ ," she said his name in a husky whisper, sliding one hand up his chest to squeeze his shoulder, sending electricity rippling through his body out from wherever she touched, _"I'd like to give you your present now."_

Neither of them breathed as the final seconds ticked away.

As the clock chimed for midnight, they crashed together, their lips meeting so hard he felt a dull pain. In an instant, her hands flew to either side of his face, pulling him down to her forcefully, desperate to apply even more pressure between their mouths, while his hands wrapped around her waist and squeezed her to him as hard as he could. It’s like they were both trying to fuse their bodies into one, even pressing themselves together until they could barely breathe wasn’t enough.

Harry was distantly aware that this wasn’t how a first kiss was “supposed” to go. There was no sweet tenderness, no cautious exploration. He wanted all of her. He wanted to _devour_ her until the taste of her never left him, even for a second. And judging by the way she moaned into his mouth as their lips moved together and sucked on each other, and the way her fingers were currently desperately digging into his hair like she never wanted to let him go, she felt the same way.

There was no time for sweet first kisses, no time to ask her how she felt, Harry had been harboring a monster inside him for months and the only thought in his mind was letting it loose on her, and the fact that she had apparently been holding back the same thing just drove him more mad, which drove _her_ mad, until they were desperately clawing at each other like two animals.

Harry ran his hands up and down her perfect body, wanting to memorize her. He slipped his hands down to her perfect, feminine hips, back up the length of her petite muscular back, all the way up to the back of her head, running his fingers through that silky, fiery, sweet-smelling hair that had been calling to him for months. Ginny was running her hands up and down his chest and stomach, before settling on his shoulders and kneading them, trying to find and explore every one of his muscles. Completely losing his mind, Harry’s hands drifted downward to her perfectly shaped arse and squeezed. 

She squealed into his mouth and opened hers to run her tongue along his bottom lip, and he parted his lips to invite her in. She dove into him with renewed vigor, meeting his tongue with hers and sliding them together, circling each other in a dance that elicited renewed moans from both of them. They opened their jaws wider and wider, in yet another competition as they desperately needed more of each other.

Then, Ginny retreated, drawing her tongue back into her mouth. Harry pursued her with his, then her mouth closed again, around his tongue, and she _sucked._ She sucked on his tongue so hard it hurt, and moved her lips up and down it. It was driving him mad, not just from the feeling or how entangled with each other they were, but images flashed in his mind of her sucking his cock exactly the same way.

His cock, which was currently harder than it had ever been in his life. He was wearing loose pajama pants and boxers, so there was no way she couldn’t feel it, and the fact that she wasn’t recoiling from him led him to do something he would have been horrified at mere minutes ago.

In a swift motion, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up, and perched her bum on the edge of the table. His hands went to her thighs to part them, but before he could she did it herself. He stood between them and firmly, deliberately pressed his hard cock to her crotch.

She squealed in shock into his mouth, and for an instant he was scared he had gone too far, but then she reached around him, squeezed each cheek of his arse, and pulled him even harder into him. She started moving her own hips, grinding against him through their clothes, desperate for more friction.

 _He_ squealed into her mouth in shock, and she let out a low, guttural, evil _laugh_ into his. Then, she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on him _hard_ . Harry hissed in pain and when she released him, he tasted blood. He felt her smirk against his mouth and decided this couldn’t go unanswered. For the first time in what seemed like a blissful, heavenly age, he removed his lips from hers, and started trailing kisses down her jaw, making his way to her neck, biting and sucking in ways he hoped would leave marks, so that she was marked as _his._

 _“Oh Harry….”_ she whispered, biting his ear, and started grinding against him even more ferociously, applying pressure up and down the underside of his cock. If they kept this up, he was going to cum in his pajama pants, but the thought of stopping for any other reason than pulling their pants down and entering her was simply unacceptable. Feeling more and more emboldened, he traced his hands back up her torso, until he finally cupped her breast over her top—

A loud creak from the floors above them made them freeze in an instant, then fly apart. They both looked toward the living room, waiting for someone else to come down the stairs, but no one appeared. Then, they heard the sound of a flush and water running through the pipes. It was just one of the Weasleys going to the loo.

They both let out the breath they were holding and looked back at each other, then instantly looked away in embarrassment. Finally able to look each other in the eyes, they both burst into laughter. Feeling relaxed, Harry moved back over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist again.

“Well….that was….” he tried to speak.

“Mental?” she finished for him.

“I was going to say ‘bloody amazing,’ but yeah I guess ‘mental’ qualifies too,” he said, grinning from ear to ear, “I know I’m not really an expert in the department, but I’ve never snogged like that.”

Ginny still looked embarrassed, blushing furiously, “Well I’ve got a good deal more experience than you, and _I’ve_ never snogged like that.”

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his chest.

“I was planning on doing that tomorrow, after somehow getting you alone. I was going to get all made up, I even took beauty tips from _Phlegm,_ all for nought, because I couldn’t help pouncing on you, all while—” she gestured up and down herself “—looking like something the cat coughed up.”

“Hey now,” Harry scolded her, lifting her back up and cupping her face in his hands, “Don’t you dare talk about my girl like that.” Ginny let out a very uncharacteristically girly giggle at him calling her “his girl.”

“You look amazing,” he told her, tucking some strands of wild hair behind her ear, “You _are_ amazing, always, every day, at all times.”

She smiled and blushed, somehow looking completely innocent even though they had just had their tongues down each other’s throats. He started stroking her cheek with his thumb, and she leaned into his touch.

Slowly, he guided her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. His hands continued stroking her beautiful face and she let out a deep, contented sigh as he moved his lips against hers. Ironically, _this_ was far closer to what a traditional “first kiss” was supposed to look like.

They continued to kiss like this for several minutes, not escalating their passion, content to just enjoy each other’s closeness. Harry was trying to say, without words, that what he felt for her wasn’t just his body lusting after hers. It certainly _did_ , but he also wanted to make it clear how often he had wanted to take her hand in his whenever they walked beside each other, how he had fantasized about snuggling with her on a couch just as often as he had fantasized about ravishing her in a bed. He wanted a future with her, a future full of making each other laugh and holding each other as they cried, a future of relaxing by the lake together and stressing out over schoolwork together. And he was trying to make that clear with every gentle kiss he placed on her lips.

Eventually, their snogging devolved into short, light kisses interspersed with Ginny giggling, until eventually she sank into his embrace and pressed her cheek against his chest.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.”

He bent his neck down and planted a kiss on top of her head.

“Happy Christmas, Gin.”


	2. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny is happy. Fleur is nosy.

_18th December, 1996_

_Night_

Ginny thought she would rather fight a dozen more Death Eaters than open her mouth and ask what she knew she had to ask. She looked sideways over at her new roommate and felt the familiar pangs of jealousy as her eyes roamed the older girl’s perfect form, from her adorably petite toes to the curve of her bum to the completely flawless skin on her face, her expression of disapproval at the camp bed that was to be her new sleeping place doing nothing to make her features less perfect. No matter how Ginny tried to convince herself otherwise, going to Phlegm for advice for this felt like begging.

Fleur sighed and looked towards Ginny. The younger girl blushed and looked away quickly, but not quickly enough.

“Is zere somezing troubling you, Ginny?” asked Fleur with annoying sincerity.

Ginny silently shook her head, refusing to look at Fleur. She wasn’t surprised when Fleur wasn’t convinced.

The beauty closed the distance between them and placed a friendly hand on Ginny’s shoulder, “You will not fool me, sweet girl, is zer a problem?”

Ginny sighed and looked at the ceiling, “I’m not sure if you’re the best person to come to with this, or the worst.”

“What do you mean?”

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, determined to not look at the beautiful woman next to her or she knew she would die of embarrassment, “Well….I mean…..you’ve probably never had to….. _convince_ a boy to pursue you, have you? I mean they just throw themselves at you with no provocation, this is really just a problem for us mere humans.”

She realized how ugly and passive-aggressive this last part was as she was saying it, so she opened her eyes and looked at her soon-to-be sister-in-law to apologize, but was struck speechless by the mischievous open-mouthed grin on Fleur’s face.

“Sweet leetle Ginevra,” she leaned closer, “are you asking me ‘ow to seduce a man?” she finished in a scandalous whisper.

 _“What!?”_ Ginny squealed, her eyes widening, “No, I just need to know how to get him to ask me out, or _kiss_ me!”

“Oh I apologize, I assumed too much,” said Fleur, not sounding sorry at all, “I can ‘elp you, Ginny, but I truly do not zink you need my ‘elp, you already ‘ave ‘Arry at your mercy.”

Ginny felt herself somehow blush even deeper and looked down at her feet.

“I know that he wants me,” she sat down on her bed and rested her chin on her hands, “but Harry has a nasty habit of denying himself things that he wants. He liked Cho Chang for a year and a half before asking her out, and by then it was too late. I was planning on buttering him up over the next week and then kissing him on Christmas, and things seemed encouraging tonight, but I keep worrying he’ll push me away, with a _‘you’re Ron’s sister’_ or a _‘it wouldn’t be safe for you,’_ or some rubbish like that.”

“Well, to answer your earlier concern,” said Fleur, sounding very self-satisfied, “I _am_ ze right woman to ‘elp you. Eet is true zat I am very beautiful, but so are you, _mon_ _chéri,”_ she finished while giving Ginny a piercing look that made the redhead wonder how much more she could blush without getting stuck like that.

“Zat is ze easy part, ze next trick is to coax your man towards you at ze right pace.”

She started running her fingers through her shining veela hair and looking far away, as if reminiscing, “Men can be such….. _unstable_ creatures, darling. Ze poor zings do not ‘ave enough blood to work boze ‘eads at once. One minute, zey are too eentimidated by you to speak, ze next zey are pouncing on you wizout so much as a romantic word. Eet seems your noble knight in shining armour is ze former, so we will need to spend ze next week making you positively _eeresistible_ to ‘im, we need ‘im incapable of zinking about complications regarding your family or ze war, only that ‘e _must_ ‘ave you.”

Ginny’s breathing became more and more labored as Fleur talked and she subconsciously rubbed her thighs together at the thought of making Harry lose control until he _attacked_ her.

“And you,” she gulped, “you have some ideas on how to make that happen?” she asked, biting her lip.

Fleur’s devilish grin grew even wider with the knowledge that Ginny was onboard. She seemed delighted to encounter something she was actually familiar with in the Burrow for a change. She might not have much interest in cooking or chickens, but corrupting young women seemed to be her wheelhouse.

“Oh yes. For starters, you ‘ad ze right idea under ze mistletoe, showing a bit of skin.”

“Well I don’t think I can keep that up,” Ginny laughed, “I was freezing all night.”

“Ah,” said Fleur, raising a finger like a Professor giving a lesson, “zat is why you must find anozzer body to keep you warm.”

Ginny’s embarrassment was slowly but surely giving away. This was familiar territory, almost like pulling a prank, or designing a Quidditch play. This was going to be fun, “Oh that’s _brilliant,_ Fleur.”

Fleur shook her head, “Oh _non,_ sweet zing, zat is only the beginning, I ‘ave some very special zings planned for when you give ‘im his Christmas gift.” 

* * *

  
  
  


_25th December, 1996_

_Morning_

Ginny was being overwhelmed by the smell of him. His face was buried into her neck, licking, sucking, marking her as his. Her fingers and nose were buried into his messy hair, hair that had practically _begged_ her to grab and pull since the day she met him. Her hands had a vice-like grip on his spectacular, toned ass and she could perfectly feel the shape of his cock grinding against her hot, swelling sex. Her pussy, which suddenly felt so empty and lonely, took control of her body away from her brain and directed her hands towards his crotch—

She awoke with a gasp. She was laying in her bedroom, tragically alone, with her skin flustered, breathing shallow, and her knickers soaked through. But unlike every other time in her life when she awoke like that after dreaming about Harry, she wasn’t immediately hit with a wave of guilt and shame upon awakening. Instead, she grinned with excitement, her fingers moving to her lips, which she swore still tingled with the memory of Harry’s pressed against them.

“Pleasant dreams?”

The grin was wiped from Ginny’s face as she suddenly remembered who she was sharing her room with. She slowly turned her head to the right until, out of the corner of her eye she saw Fleur, propped up on her elbow, looking at Ginny with the most smug smile the younger girl had ever seen in her life.

Ginny quickly looked back away and tried to sound nonchalant. “I guess so,” she shrugged.

“You _guess so?_ ” Fleur repeated slyly, “‘Arry will be so ‘urt you are so disinterested in your dreams about ‘im.”

Ginny’s eyes widened and she looked toward Fleur, terrified, “How did you—”

“You were moaning ‘is name in your sleep, _mon chéri,”_ Fleur teased, her Cheshire grin sparkling in the morning sun.

The redhead grimaced and covered her face with her blanket, whimpering in embarrassment.

“So,” said Fleur, sitting up on her camp bed and turning to face Ginny, “what were you doing wiz him? Get any ideas for later?”

“No,” Ginny sighed, removing the blanket and resolutely sitting up to face the smug veela. She was determined to not be embarrassed about getting exactly what she wanted. “Not ideas. A memory.”

Because that’s what it was. This time, her dream wasn’t the fantasy of a shy, randy girl, it was the _memory_ of _Harry’s girlfriend!_ It had actually _happened._ Well, okay, _most_ of it had happened before that noise killed the mood and reminded her that spreading her legs and begging him to fuck her right there on the kitchen table was probably a bad idea. But she had no regrets, because she knew there would be plenty of chances to do it (and more) again, and her mind was racing with possibilities.

“Memory?” Fleur inquired, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, memory,” said Ginny, tilting her nose in the air and crossing her arms, her turn to act smug, “of us snogging in the kitchen last night.”

For a moment, Fleur just sat in uncharacteristic silence, her usually dignified, graceful face staring open-mouthed in shock, but then Ginny’s smug confidence broke way to panic as the veela flew across the room and half-hugged, half-tackled the smaller girl, knocking her backwards against the bedroom wall.

Thankfully, Fleur released her quickly and sat down on the bed next to Ginny, grasping freckled hands in her own fair ones, “Tell. Me. _Everyzing!”_

Ginny tried to wave her off, “There’s not much to tell, we both couldn’t sleep, we were talking, and then we kissed.”

 _“Ginny,”_ Fleur scolded her, giving her a knowing look that reminded the girl far too much of her mother, “No one just goes from talking to kissing, _tell me_ ‘ow you ensnared your ‘Arry.”

Ginny was about to snap at Fleur for using the word “ensnare,” like Ginny was some sort of femme fatale golddigger, but despite herself the word actually sent a jolt of excitement through her. That, combined with the comforting warmth she felt at Fleur’s use of the phrase “your Harry,” made the wall between them Ginny had carefully constructed, which had cracked a week ago, start to crumble.

She rolled her eyes and started to tell the more experienced woman about her encounter with Harry the previous night, how they had bantered back and forth, how she had casually dropped that she had broken up with Dean, had kissed him at the stroke of midnight, how their kiss had rapidly gotten more heated, and finally when they lost track of time as they settled into their more gentle, affectionate kisses. Fleur could not stop giggling the entire time, and despite her best efforts Ginny couldn’t manage to feel annoyed at her. Not only did Fleur seem so genuinely happy for her, it was nice to have someone who approved of having fun with Harry. Ginny knew that if Hermione was here, her friend would scold her for toying with Harry’s feelings (her own stunt with McLaggen conveniently ignored), and urged her to just have a frank conversation with him (the kind of conversation she herself was incapable of having with Ginny’s brother).

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Ginny said with false indifference at Fleur’s final round of giggling, “I hope you don’t get like this every time you snog my boyfriend.”

Fleur collapsed into even more giggles at Ginny’s use of the word. _Boyfriend._

She couldn’t stop gleefully repeating the word over and over in her head.

Harry Potter was her _boyfriend!_

The pride in his voice as he had said the words “my girl,” as if winning the Triwizard Tournament, slaying a basilisk, or facing Tom Riddle five times and living were inconsequential compared to the accomplishment of winning her, made a bubble swell in her chest so large that she was afraid she might burst from happiness. 

Fleur’s extreme girliness must have been contagious, because Ginny let out a very uncharacteristic squeal and jumped out of the bed and crossed the room to her mirror to examine her reflection. She really did look a mess. Her hair was even more matted than last night, her sleep clothes all disheveled, and her bottom lip was red and swollen, like she had been sucking it and biting it during her dream about Harry. Remembering how he had found her so irresistible after she had rolled out of bed caused a new wave of longing to pool in her core.

“Deed I steer you wrong?” asked Fleur confidently, coming up behind Ginny and smiling at her through the mirror, “And you zought I was mad for suggesting ze tank tops.”

“I _have_ been freezing my arse off all week!” Ginny reminded her.

“Yes, I could see your _chair de poule_ until your tall and dark hero kept you warm.”

“Do _not_ start with that ‘hero’ tripe,” Ginny told her harshly, “I don’t want him starting to think I only like him because he saved me, or because of that ‘Chosen One’ nonsense. But….yes, I do appreciate the help. Sorry the climax to your evil scheme you planned for today is for nothing, I guess I didn’t need it after all.”

Fleur got even closer behind Ginny and rested her chin on the redhead’s shoulder, still grinning like a cat amongst the pixies, “I told you, _jolie fille,_ you never _needed_ eet, there’s just no ‘arm in ‘aving a leettle fun, and reminding ‘Arry right out ze gate ‘ow lucky ‘ee is to ‘ave you. But zis changes nozzing, we stick to ze plan. You ‘av your prey in your sights, now eet is time to go in for ze kill. Go on, go get a shower, I will get everyzing ready, and once we’re done ze poor boy will faint from shock.”

With that, Ginny put on her robe and marched out of her room and up the stairs. Fleur was right. Just because it was out in the open now didn’t mean it wouldn’t still be fun to torture Harry for a bit. In fact, being absolutely certain what effect she had on him made her feel even bolder.

As she reached the landing with the door for the bathroom, she reached for the door handle, but stopped when she heard noises coming from inside. She put her ear to the door and was about to knock to confirm if someone was in there, but then froze when she realized what the sounds were. She heard the unmistakable sound of flesh aggressively rubbing on flesh, and heavy, labored breathing mixed with deep, guttural, _male_ moans. 

Ginny’s breath hitched and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks as she was torn between arousal and disgust. The part of her brain that was picturing Harry in there, touching himself, possibly thinking about what they had did the previous night, urged her to kick the door down and give him a helping hand (or helping mouth, or tits, or anything else), while the more rational part of her that warned that it could just as easily be one of her brothers in there told her to plug her fingers in her ears and hastily walk away. She was going to obey the second voice, but her uncertainty was answered and her resolve shattered when she recognized the voice moaning from the other side of the door.

_“Ginny….”_


	3. Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two showers. One real, one fantasy.
> 
> Harry and Ginny think about Quidditch in very different ways.

_25th December, 1996_

_Morning_

Harry had no idea how he was going to get any sleep for the rest of the holidays. Or the rest of the school term. Or the rest of his life, for that matter. Why would he _ever_ want to sleep again? So that he could dream? He now had the best dream he could ever hope for, here in the land of the living.

Ever since he and Ginny had finally said goodnight to each other and retired to their (tragically) separate bedrooms, Harry was pretty sure he had spent the longest unbroken stretch of his life in a good mood. He was so happy that it oddly felt _wrong._ Harry James Potter simply wasn’t _supposed_ to be this happy, he felt like he had hijacked a more normal person’s life and was going to be yanked out of it at any moment.

Ironically, he clung to the doubt and pessimism like a blanket, because the alternative was falling down the quite frankly scary rabbit hole he found himself teetering over. He honestly had no idea how far he would have gone with her the previous night if they hadn’t gotten interrupted. He was about to grope her tits when the mood had been shattered, and he hadn’t even asked, his body had been in complete control. And if _that_ bit of randy thoughtlessness hadn’t scared her off, the things that he had almost _said_ to her, the feelings that had been threatening to burst and spill out of him like a broken dam, almost certainly would have made her reconsider things. Because what he was feeling for this girl that he had only been “dating” for a few hours defied all logic and reason.

When he awoke from his brief, restless sleep with a flushed face and raging erection, he had briefly been sad and surprised to find himself alone in his bed, like he expected the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes to be fiery red hair, and a sweet floral scent to fill his nostrils. Which was, of course, _completely mental._ He’d woken up alone every day of his life, he and Ginny hadn’t done anything other than snog, and yet his body was missing something he’d never actually had….

He had _never_ felt her bright, silky hair tickle his nose as he pulled her close to him. Never tasted her salt as he kissed the back of her neck after they had worked up a sweat. Never heard her sweet giggles turn abruptly to moans as he touched her wet—

A loud snore from Ron made Harry jump out of his skin. He lifted his head slightly and panicked at the tall, proud tent erected in the blanket over his crotch. He swore under his breath and turned on his side to face the wall.

_She couldn’t have waited until we were back at school?_

He had _thought_ he had had it bad for Ginny before, but it was nothing compared to this. Far from being placated, the monster in his chest was now full-on possessing him, and in a house _full_ of people who would likely hex him if he touched the baby of the family at all inappropriately. He had no idea how he was going to stay sane until they returned to Hogwarts. It was stressful enough being in a room with a _sleeping_ Ron, the idea of her flirting with him at breakfast surrounded by everyone was downright terrifying.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to get control of his thoughts.

_Get a hold of yourself, Potter, this is pathetic. You think SHE’S this frustrated right now? Sure, she might be fondly thinking about what you two did last night, but you really think she’s lying in bed, incapable of thinking of anything else? You think she’s softly moaning your name as her fingers drift further and further down towards her wet—_

This wasn’t helping. He took in a large breath, and held it, hoping that depriving himself of oxygen would force his body to prioritize its blood better.

When he finally exhaled, his cock had softened a bit, but his mind was still racing with replays of Ginny approaching him in the kitchen, the feeling of her tongue dancing with his, the sound of her moaning into his mouth—

 _Quidditch._ Think about Quidditch. The team playing Quidditch. Ginny playing Quidditch. Ginny rolling to catch the Quaffle. Maybe her robes fly up a little—

Okay, Quidditch was obviously a bad idea. Classes. You’re sitting in History of Magic. Binns is droning on about goblins. Sunbeams are shining through the window and everyone is sleepy. Maybe Ginny’s robes fly up a little—

Stifling a groan, Harry quietly threw the covers off of him and tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to wake Ron in his present state. It was painfully obvious he wasn’t going to be able to _think_ himself out of this mess and he was going to have to “take care” of it. He had never done this in Ron’s house before, it had always seemed horrifying, but he reckoned it would be _more_ horrifying to walk into the sitting room on Christmas morning rock-hard.

He entered the bathroom, locked the door, and went to the toilet. He pulled down his pyjama pants, leaned over the toilet with one arm supporting him against the wall, and his other hand, finally, started stroking his aching cock. He stopped fighting the memories and allowed them to wash over him until he felt like he might drown. The taste of her lips, the feeling of her hair flowing through his fingers, the curves of her body molded perfectly onto him. His hand picked up his pace and he squeezed his eyes shut and he was no longer in the bathroom at all, he wasn’t even in his memories from the previous night. He was in a scenario his desperate, overwhelmed brain prayed was in his future.

Ginny is hugging him on the Quidditch pitch after a crushing victory. He grabs her around the waist and claims her mouth in a searing, passionate kiss so that the whole world knows that the most beautiful, talented, driven Chaser in history is _his._

The scene shifts so that they’re now back in the changing room, alone. 

“I was absolutely unstoppable today,” she declares with satisfaction. It’s not arrogance, merely stating a fact. It’s the kind of burning confidence that made him crazy for her. 

“I’d certainly say so,” he agrees with a smirk on his face and a raging hard-on in his trousers.

“You know,” she says sultrily, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, “as team Captain, you’re responsible for team morale and…. _motivation,”_ she articulates the last word while sliding her hands up his chest, “I, for one, think I deserve a reward for all those goals I scored.”

He pulls her close, “Well, I’d hate for you to feel unappreciated,” he agrees with a whisper, and goes in for another kiss, however, she just pushes him away with an evil laugh and a blazing look in her eye.

“I said _I_ deserve a reward, Potter, not for you to reward yourself. Come on,” and she takes off towards the showers, leaving him shell-shocked for several seconds before he follows her. He follows a trail of discarded clothing, ending in a sexy lace bra and pair of knickers, until he’s finally looking at her standing nude, dripping wet in a shower stall. Next instant, he’s naked himself and her bare breasts are pressed against his chest and he’s kissing her like his life depends on it as the hot water covers their bodies.

She pushes him away, biting her wet lip, “I think it’s time for my reward, Captain.” She twists her fingers into his wet hair and pushes him down. Without questioning, he falls to his knees to give her what she deserves.

She parts her legs for him and guides his head to the part of her he’s most desperate for. He eagerly darts out his tongue and places one hard lick up her folds, sending ripples of shock and pleasure through her. He doesn’t know what she would taste like, but he assumes she’s delicious. He licks and sucks on her clit, never looking away from her beautiful half-lidded brown eyes. She whimpers as she rubs herself against his mouth with more and more urgency. Within a few moments, she’s mewling his name. His hands travel up her toned thighs and he starts kneading her bum, pulling her even harder into his face, and sucked hard on her clit. She shrieks in pleasure and tilts her head back, her eyes unfocused.

He removes his lips for a second and she whimpers in frustration.

“Is this reward good enough, Miss Weasley? Can I expect more of this level of excellence from you?”

“Oh, Harry, “she sighs, “I’ll win the bloody World Cup for you if you keep doing this to me.”

Smiling happily, he returns to her most intimate place, eagerly licking up and down the entire length of her slit and swirling the tip of his tongue around her tiny nub until she’s emitting a low, guttural moan.

“Ooooooh, _yes!”_ Ginny growls through gritted teeth. She twists her fingers into his wet hair, “Yeah, Potter, eat that pussy! Lick it like it’s your fucking job! I knew you were made Captain for a reason.”

He again moves his mouth away and quirks an eyebrow up at her, “Well you know, if this is part of my Captain duties, then I also have to motivate Demelza and Katie the same way.”

Her eyes give him the flash of angry jealousy and possessiveness that he was hoping for.

“Oh, think you’re funny, do you Potter?” she asks scornfully, “Who gave you permission to talk, anyway?”

And with that Ginny painfully digs her fingers into his scalp and shoves his face back to her crotch. But that isn’t enough for him, he chases the taste of her, shoving his tongue up her warm, wet quim until his nose is pressed firmly into her clit and he can barely breathe.

“FUUUUUUUCK YES!” she screams, rutting against his face even harder, “THAT’S IT! FUCK ME WITH THAT TONGUE! IT’S SO GOOD! FUCKFUCKFUCK HARRY I’M GOING TO—”

Ginny’s cries descend into profane babble as she floods Harry’s face with her juices, shuddering violently. After the waves subside, he catches her from falling to the shower floor and holds her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers, and they kiss passionately with their naked bodies pressed together, his hard length poking into her stomach, his hands caressing her hair, made a darker red from the water.

She finally pulls away from him.

 _“Please, Harry,”_ she begs, “That was amazing, but it’s not enough. I need your co—”

“Ginny!”

He groaned her name out loud as he came hard, shooting his load into the toilet and bringing his mind crashing back down to Earth. He stood panting for several seconds before cleaning himself and stowing his cock back in his pyjamas. He moved to the sink and washed his face in cold water, trying to clear his head even more. 

While he was glad to have his brain functioning again, he once again reminded himself to not be _too_ happy, and was a bit embarrassed with himself for being such a stereotypical teenage boy, not even being with this girl for twenty-four hours and already fantasizing about going down on her and her begging him to fuck her. Harry wasn’t an expert, but girls always took a lot longer to be ready for that, right? At least that’s what he heard. Especially judging by how Hermione always disgustedly huffed at how barbaric boys were. Hell, Bill and Fleur were _engaged_ and they were still sleeping separately. Although, that might be more Mrs. Weasley’s decision than Fleur’s. It’s not like he was ever going to _ask_ about it.

As he unlocked the door and turned the handle, he tried to push such thoughts out of his mind and promised himself that he wasn’t going to be one of those selfish blokes who put pressure on their girlfriend. He swore that he would be patient, and resigned himself to waiting for months. Years, if she wanted to. Now hopefully he can go back to bed and get just a bit more sleep before—

“Have any trouble?”

Harry froze in the doorway. Ginny was leaning against the opposite wall, idly playing with her messed-up hair. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough for Harry’s breath to freeze in his chest and his heart to start racing in panic. But although her body language told him that she was relaxed and nonchalantly waiting for the bathroom, her _eyes_ told a completely different story. They weren’t merely smoldering, they were positively _burning_ right through him so fiercely he was afraid he might burst into flame right there on the spot. Her eyes were so piercing that he was more sure than ever that she was a secret Legilimens. Had she guessed what he had been doing in there? Could she know what exactly he had been thinking about?

“T—Trouble?” Harry simply repeated what she said, words failing him.

“Well, yeah,” Ginny said noncommittally, shrugging and looking down at her feet, “I’m pretty sure I heard you say my name in there, I was just wondering if you might be in distress, and needed my help with something,” and she returned that piercing look to Harry’s eyes.

Harry gulped loudly enough for her to hear, and a triumphant smirk found its way to her lips, and with that, Harry’s fear gave way to a growing bubble of excitement, because now he saw that she _did_ indeed know what he had been doing in there, and that intense, fiery look in her eyes wasn’t anger.

He could only describe it as _hunger._

With a confidence he didn’t know he had and horrified the more civilized half of his brain, he put on a smirk of his own and told her, “Oh believe me, you helped me plenty in there.”

Ginny gasped, evidently as shocked as he was by his forwardness, and raked her eyes down his body, licking her lips and rubbing her thighs together. Her eyes settled on the visible tent in his pyjama pants, his efforts to relax himself completely wasted.

“Well,” she whispered, pushing herself from the wall and walking sultrily up to him until their chests were almost touching and she was looking up into his face, “I’m glad I could be of service. Dwelling on any particular memories, perhaps?”

“No,” Harry whispered down to her, pausing for her to frown in surprise, “Making plans for later.”

Ginny let out a sigh and he felt her breath on his lips. Feeling mighty satisfied with himself, he leaned down to claim her lips—

“Anyway,” she said brightly, stepping away as if they were just making pleasant small talk, “I’ve got to get a shower. Need to start getting ready for the day and everything. Good morning, Harry!” and with the cheekiest grin he’d ever seen, brushed passed him into the bathroom and shut the door in his face.

He stood there, mouth agape, his cock even harder than when he woke up, and had a sobering realization.

_My girlfriend is evil._

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ginny had to shove her knuckles into her mouth to keep herself from loudly laughing as she leaned against the bathroom door. He was probably still just on the other side of it, with that adorably dumbfounded look on his face. She wasn’t being _completely_ cruel, she really did need a shower and didn’t want to derail Fleur’s plans _again,_ that would just be rude, but it had been fun to scare him when he came out of the bathroom, and it had been even _more_ fun when he had found his footing and played along. Hopefully her boyfriend would forgive her and not hold it against her _too_ much.

Hmmmm…..although maybe it would be better if he did _hold it against her._ Maybe she deserved to be _punished_ , just a bit, for her cheek.

This was a new aspect of her attraction to Harry that had first started making itself known during DA meetings, and then had come crashing into her mind when he became Quidditch Captain. She had _thought_ she was attracted to Harry when he was merely kind, brave, funny, and had a propensity for saving her life, but she had been completely unprepared for how her body would react to him being _in charge_ of her.

And there was such a delicious variety of flavors to Harry taking charge, each more attractive than the last. There was the adorably shy reluctant leader that she saw in the first DA meeting, that was closest to the boy she had known and fancied for years, but then there was a side of him that no one had seen before, that had been slowly coaxed out of him over the past couple of years. A quiet, dignified confidence. A certainty in his capabilities instead of awkwardly brushing them off. It wasn’t arrogance, this version of himself always remained earnest and understanding as he taught and encouraged others. It was times like that when Ginny didn’t just fancy the boy she had known, she admired and lusted after the _man_ she saw him becoming.

But then, even more rarely, was a side of Leader Harry that only came out in dire circumstances, when someone needed a swift kick in the pants. He would become aggressive and forceful, it reminded her of a feral animal, and that was the version of him she found herself thinking about while leaning against the bathroom door, the image of Harry’s confident smirk and incredulous look as she left him hanging. She wasn’t laughing anymore, she was breathing heavily, and knew this was going to be a long shower.

She stripped off her clothes in record time, turned on the steaming hot water, and stepped inside. As the drops massaged her head and back, and ran down her flustered chest, she focused on that last image of his face before she shut the door. Shock, confusion, and just a touch of _rage_ . Anger at being denied something that was rightfully his. And that thing that he simply _knew_ belonged to him was _her_. Her body. She didn’t realize when she had done it, but one of her hands was fiercely rubbing her clit, while the other hooked fingers into her sopping wet pussy, and her mind expands that one image of Harry being shocked and angry into an entire fantasy.

She’s sitting on a bench in the Quidditch changing room, and she’s terrified. She has just played the worst match of her life. She’s lost count of the times that she dropped the Quaffle, or let a hole open up on defense. The only reason Gryffindor hasn’t been soundly defeated is that Harry caught the Snitch before they fell even further behind, him having to come to her rescue _again._ She’s completely humiliated, and she’s sure she’s lost her spot on the team.

She’s all by herself with her thoughts and fears when her Captain walks into the changing room. He doesn’t shout at her, the only display of emotion is his furrowed brow and twitching jaw. He’s in _complete_ control, and that sends waves of arousal and lust through her that almost overcome her fear.

Harry stands in front of her with his arms crossed and looks down at her, his emerald eyes piercing her and she has trouble breathing.

 _“So,_ ” he breaks the silence, “I think it’s safe to call that a complete clusterfuck, don’t you?”

She winces and looks down at her knees, “I’m so sorry, Harry, I understand if you want me off the team after this.”

But as she feels tears burning, she feels a finger on her chin and he gently, yet firmly tilts her face back up to look him in his eyes and she melts all over again.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says softly, “I’m sure if you learn your lesson from this, you can improve and you won’t let it happen again.”

She nods emphatically, “Yes, Harry, I promise, I’ll do better.”

He nods back but looks unconvinced, “I’m sure that’s true, Ginny, but to make sure the lesson has _sunk in,_ it’s my unpleasant duty as Captain to administer some discipline.”

She gulps loudly, her heart is racing, “D—Discipline?”

“Yes,” he says, with a look of hunger in his eyes. He straightens up and steps back from her.

“Stand up,” he orders her. She complies without a word.

His smoldering eyes scan her body up and down in a way that starts making her quim wet.

“Take your clothes off, Weasley.”

Her breath hitches and her heart starts racing, but she eagerly obeys, and next moment she’s standing bare in front of him. He moves to sit down on the bench and gestures for her to move closer. She tentatively steps toward him and, suddenly, he grabs her by the wrist and pulls her down until she’s laid across his lap. Her fear is giving away to more arousal than she thought possible.

With one hand, he pulls her hair away from her ear and whispers gently into it, “Now, by my count, you dropped the Quaffle nine times during that match. So that means that I’m going to spank you nine times as punishment, do you understand?”

She nods, biting back the urge to beg him to begin. He runs a single finger up one of her ass cheeks, sending ripples of gooseflesh all over her body, then back down again, agonizingly slowly. Then, finally, he winds his palm back and swings it forward, slapping her right buttock _hard_. She yelps in pain.

“One,” he states flatly.

He smacks her again, this time on her left cheek.

“Two”

She whimpers, the pain mixed with pleasure.

 _Smack._ “Three.”

She moans in the back of her throat, keeping her mouth closed.

 _Smack._ “Four.”

This time she moans out loud as her lips part. She’s panting like she’s been running.

 _Smack._ “Five.”

 _“Oooooh,_ ” she croons. She knows she’s wet enough that he can see her glistening between her legs.

 _Smack._ “Six.”

 _“Yes,”_ she whispers.

 _Smack. “_ Seven.”

“YES, HARRY!” she cries out. She can feel her juices dripping onto the floor.

 _Smack._ “Eight.”

“YES HARRY PLEASE! I’VE BEEN BAD!” she screams at the top of her lungs.

 _Smack._ “Nine,” he says finally.

But Ginny can only whimper in disappointment, as she knows it’s the end. However, he doesn’t move to pull her off his lap. Instead, he takes her chin again and turns her head around to look her in the eyes, and the stern, yet caring look in them almost makes her cry.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson, Weasley?”

She shakes her head vigorously, “No, Captain. I made a lot more than nine mistakes. I didn’t just drop the Quaffle, I got beaten on defense, I flew out of position, I need more punishment,” she begs him.

“Hmmmm,” Harry hums skeptically. He takes two fingers and brings them to her dripping wetness, and once again she moans. He slips his fingers inside of her and she shrieks. Still holding her chin facing towards him, he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth and sucks on them happily, moaning as he tastes her, and she almost orgasms on the spot.

“Well it certainly seems to me,” he says matter-of-factly, “that this isn’t much of a _punishment_ for you at all. If you don’t get proper motivation to do better, then I don’t see how you can improve, and I don’t see how you can keep your spot on the roster.”

Her fear returns as she remembers how this started, but he quickly calms her, “However, maybe I can find uses for _other_ skills you have. If you can no longer do your duties as a Chaser, perhaps we can find another role for you, like say….Team Slut.”

She bites her lip and nods with excitement, “I’d like that, Captain,” she says brightly and sweetly.

“Get on your knees,” he commands her. She quickly obeys.

Harry stands in front of her and starts undoing his trousers, and Ginny is quivering in anticipation. Finally, he frees his cock, and it’s every bit as glorious as she’s imagined.

“Earn your place on this team,” he growls at her disdainfully, and she instantly darts her hand out to grab his throbbing member. 

His pulsing heat almost feels like it will burn her as she delicately places a small kiss to his tip, then licks her lips to savor the taste. She takes his cockhead into her mouth, loudly moaning around it, before moving further. She starts bobbing her head back and forth over his shaft, allowing his head to go all the way to the back of her throat. She wants to show him how excited she is about her new role on the team. She wants to prove to him that she can be the best little Team Slut ever.

She hears a moan from above her and she opens her eyes, and sees those green ones, so piercing a moment ago, now half-lidded and unfocused. With a surge of triumph that makes her overly-confident, she lightly, playfully scrapes her teeth over the skin of his cock.

With a sharp hiss, his eyes are focused again, and are looking more blazing than ever with anger at her audacity.

“Oh, you’ve got some cheek, slut,” he scolds her, and in a flash he’s flipped her over so she’s lying on her stomach on the bench. Harry positions himself behind her and spreads her legs. All of the calm, commanding presence he walked in with is gone, replaced with something primal, something _animal,_ something that knew nothing but need for her, and she knows she’s close, because the one thing hotter than seeing Harry in control was seeing Harry _lose_ control. 

He grabs her by the hip and positions his cockhead at her sopping wet entrance, “Looks like you haven’t learned your place yet.”

But for the first time, she’s weakly protesting, “Please Harry, no, I’m a virgin.”

He grabs her hair and yanks her head back, causing her to arch her back.

“Not anymore, you’re not,” he growls, and with one thrust, impales her to the hilt, sending a shockwave through her body—

_“Harry!”_ she shrieked his name, which was hopefully drowned out by the sound of the shower, as she orgasmed harder than she ever had before. Her knees felt weak and she almost collapsed in a heap into the tub. Her mind felt like it was floating in water, and when she opened her eyes for the first time in minutes, she saw spots. For several moments, she just stood there motionless, her endorphin-flooded brain incapable of even thinking, before she closed her eyes again and contentedly smiled to herself

“Hehehehe….” she couldn’t stop the delirious giggling escaping her lips, laughing like a madwoman at nothing in particular other than her own horniness. And she _could_ laugh at herself about how bad she had it for Harry now, instead of wallowing in self-loathing. For the umpteenth time since last night, she was hit with the realization that her absurd, wild childhood dream had actually come true, and it filled her with so much happiness that she couldn’t worry about anything. Not school, not her family, not even the stupid war. All those things seemed inconsequential when she thought about how those deep green eyes had a _look_ that was only for her. Surely if the world was so wonderful a place that this could happen, all those other things will sort themselves out too.

But eventually, she started functioning like a thinking human being again and remembered that being Harry Potter’s girlfriend didn’t mean she didn’t still have to function in everyday life, and that included washing herself. Her pressing need taken care of, she started using the shower for what showers were _supposed_ to be used for, giving her whole body a refreshing scrub and washing her hair, making sure to thoroughly condition it. She wanted it to feel like silk as he ran his fingers through it.

After getting out and drying herself, she put on her bathrobe and slipped out into the hall. Somewhat disappointed to not find Harry waiting outside, ready to pounce on her the way she had to him, she made her way back down to her bedroom.

When she opened the door, she froze for a second in surprise and skeptically looked around the room.

Her bedroom had been transformed into a high-end fashion boutique. Her desk now featured a tall, brightly lit vanity mirror and the entire surface was covered with more hair brushes, combs, makeup, and potions than Ginny had ever seen, moving photos of beautiful witches sporting a wide variety of hairstyles were pinned to every wall, and both beds were covered with a huge selection of blouses, dresses, skirts, and— _undergarments?_ Ginny felt her ears turn red. And standing in the center was the inhumanly beautiful mastermind, looking Ginny up and down with an appraising look that resembled a sculptor looking thoughtfully at a new block of marble.

“Um….how long was I in the bathroom?” Ginny asked, more than a little intimidated, “Where the bloody hell did you get all this stuff?”

“Eet is what I ‘ad in my emergency bag,” Fleur answered, sounding _apologetic_ of all things, “Undetectable Extension Charm. Eet is not much, but we ‘ave several good options.”

Ginny couldn’t help but snort with laughter, both at what Fleur considered an “emergency” and what she considered “not much.”

Fleur continued to survey Ginny’s body, making the redhead feel flustered.

“I will ‘ave to make some adjustments to ze clothes wiz magic, as our measurements are not quite ze same.”

 _Now THERE’S a fucking understandment,_ Ginny thought jealously, eyeing the veela’s large round breasts, shapely rear, and perfect hourglass figure. She knew this whole endeavour was just Fleur trying to help Ginny feel beautiful and confident, but seeing all this stuff, and knowing that Harry was already _very much_ attracted to her, now it just seemed like overkill and too much work, and she was trying not to feel a little insulted that Fleur apparently thought _all this_ was necessary to adequately transform the younger girl.

“Look….Fleur, I thought you were just going to give me some pointers, maybe do my makeup,” Ginny said awkwardly, trying very hard not to look at the selection of sexy lingerie laid out (what exactly did Fleur think she was going to do with Harry, a few hours after their first kiss?), “I really didn’t want you to turn me into a whole entire…. _project_. I don’t want to be any trouble—”

 _“Ginevra,”_ Fleur scolded her, pouncing on her doubt and once again sounding far too much like Ginny’s mother, “zis is no trouble for me at all, anymore zan eet is trouble for you to sweat and bleed for Quidditch. I know you do not quite understand, but I am just as passionate about zis.”

Fleur closed the distance between them and rubbed Ginny’s shoulder’s affectionately, “Besides, eet is not often I get to apply my art to such a lovely canvas,” she said, smiling sweetly.

Ginny was about to scoff, but it died in her throat. Fleur’s deep blue eyes looking down at her seemed to strip Ginny of her power to make sarcastic comments.

Fleur reached up and ran a dainty hand through Ginny’s bright red hair. “And I ‘ave _always_ wanted to work with your ‘air, I 'ave never given a redhead a makeover before, the only women I ‘ave known as beautiful as you ‘ave been other part-veela.

Ginny swallowed as the look Fleur was giving her actually convinced her of something impossible: that she actually meant what she was saying.

 _“So,”_ said Fleur with finality, dropping her arms and putting her hands on her hips, and broke through the last of Ginny’s reservations, “just let me do zis _for me, non?_ Zink of it as a Christmas gift for your sister-in-law.”

Ginny smiled inwardly, appreciating the out Fleur was offering her.

 _“Ugh,”_ Ginny groaned, rolling her eyes, _“Fine,_ if I must, let’s get this over with.” She was excited to let out a more girly side of herself, but was also now comfortable and safe in her usual tomboyish attitude.

Fleur beamed and clapped her hands, _“Magnifique!”_ she grabbed Ginny by the hand and led her to one of the clothes-laden beds, “Let us get started!”


	4. Makeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Fleur's evil plan comes to fruition

_ 25th December 1996 _

_ Morning _

Harry heard the water in the bathroom turn off, but knew he had to wait a few minutes before going in there himself. Ron was snoring as loudly as ever, but after what Ginny had just done to him he had accepted he wasn’t getting any more sleep that morning, so he was just going to go downstairs and get his morning shower. But if he crossed Ginny in the hall, and they continued their conversation they had started, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

This was ridiculous. He finally had the girl of his dreams, and yet now that meant he had to  _ avoid _ her and see less of her than ever. He knew the other inhabitants of the house would find out that they were a couple soon, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want them catching on just how far past an innocent school romance his desire for her went. But he didn’t know how he was going to hide that with her playing games with him. This wasn’t fair. How would she feel if he riled  _ her _ up when she couldn’t do anything about it, in a house full of her family?

_ She knows that you would never have the guts to rile her up in a house full of her family, _ his mind mocked him

Harry frowned at the unfairness of dating a girl that was so much hotter than him and got back out of bed. He went back to the bathroom for the second time that morning, undressed, and got into the shower. Before he turned on the water, he noticed that it was still wet and hot from its previous occupant—Ginny. And as he let the hot water pour over him, that knowledge put images in his head of Ginny bathing herself, water rolling over her freckled skin, down her legs, between her breasts. Maybe she got just as worked up as he did after their brief encounter and did unspeakable things to herself in this very spot. He could swear that the steam still carried the enticing floral scent that he smelled in Amortentia.

He opened his eyes and looked down. Shit. How many times was he going to have to sneak off to the bathroom to calm himself down today?

Figuring he might as well get this over with, he closed his eyes and startedstroking his cock again. Over the summer, the four of them had enjoyed swimming in a pond near the Burrow, and these days Harry was kicking himself for not properly appreciating the sight of Ginny in a swimsuit at the time, and he frequently came up with much better ways he could have made use of it.

In his mind, Harry and Ginny land (by themselves) next to the pond after an invigorating fly around the orchard. He’s extremely turned on from watching her on a broomstick.

She turns to him and says slyly, “Fancy a swim?”

He looks around, “Sure, but we didn’t bring our swimsuits.”

She cocks her head, “Who said anything about suits? Turn around.”

Since this is a fantasy, Harry stays cool under pressure, calmly turning around and resisting the urge to peek as he hears Ginny undressing behind him. When he hears a splash, he turns around and sees Ginny’s head bobbing in the water, concealing everything else.

“Come on in!” she calls to him playfully, “The water’s great!”

He raises his eyebrows at her, “Excuse me, I gave you some privacy, now give me some.”

She rolls her eyes and turns around. He strips off his own clothes and joins her in the pond, standing with his feet in the mud while she turns to face him, treading water a few feet away. Without saying a word, they drift towards each other, their eyes darting to each other’s lips.

“You can stand on the bottom?” she asks, getting out of breath, “I hate being short.”

“Don’t worry, if you’re drowning, I’ve got you,” he tells her, holding out his arms.

“My hero,” she giggles, and swims into his embrace. He pulls her close and wraps his arms around her back, pressing her wonderful bare, soft tits to his chest. She wraps her legs around his waist, and finally they meet in a fiery kiss. They moan into each other’s mouths as he sucks and nibbles on her bottom lip, then she pushes her tongue into his mouth and he eagerly lets her in, opening their lips wide for each other. After a heavenly few minutes of passionate kissing, he can feel her getting more desperate. They’re as close as two people can possibly be without taking one final step, and he can see how badly she needs it.

Cupping her tight, firm bum to support her weight, he starts carrying her back to the shore, slowly emerging from the water. He lays her down on the grass and finally takes in her naked form, her freckled skin glinting in the sun. Her glistening pussy is as wet as the rest of her body, but not from water. He’s hovering over her with the length of his cock pressed up against her folds.

She reaches down and grabs his throbbing length and pushes his head up against her entrance.

“Please, Harry,” she begs him, “Please— _ UNNGGGG” _ her whisper turns into a long, sultry moan as he enters her. He keeps moving forward until he’s entirely sheathed in her wet heat, looking into her brown eyes the whole time. Then, as he starts moving back and forth, he starts kissing her again, each thrust eliciting a new squeal into his mouth.

_ “Harryyyyy,”  _ she moans his name wantonly, breaking their kiss  _ “I lo—” _

With a grunt, his body tensed up as he shot ropes of his release into the water of the shower, washing away as quickly as his fantasy.

He had run that scenario in his head before. Nearly everything was the same except—

_ “I lo—” _

_ That _ part was new. Huh.

Able to think once more, he finished bathing and returned to Ron’s bedroom, where his best friend was finally awake, if not yet vertical.

He started getting dressed, and was taking pains deciding which one of his thoroughly unremarkable outfits to wear and making yet another fruitless attempt to tidy his hair, and even Ron, in his groggy state could notice such a drastic departure in Harry’s morning routine as actually caring about his appearance.

“We’re not expecting the bloody Minister for Christmas pudding, mate, it’s just us here, who are you trying to impress? Or did Fleur’s veela powers finally crack through your whole”—he gestured up and down—”’I’m the Bloody Chosen One and Can Resist the Imperius Curse So I’m More Enlightened Than a Typical Bloke’ front you’ve got going on?”

“Oh believe me, I’m well aware that I’m nothing more than a typical bloke,” Harry muttered as Ron left for the bathroom.

He went downstairs to the sitting room. It was still early, barely after dawn, and the only one up already was Mrs. Weasley making breakfast in the kitchen. He knew if he went in there, she would sit him down and insist he eat the entire spread by himself, so instead he sat down on the couch in the sitting room and waited for other Weasleys (or Delacours, or Lupins) to come down the stairs.

Before long, he heard a slow, deliberate  _ click-clack _ sound descending the staircase, and lifted his head. 

There, he saw a pair of dainty feet, then toned legs, then a lean, unbelievably hot body, then—

Out of breath, Harry’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto the couch.

* * *

  
  
  


_ 25th December 1996 _

_ Earlier that morning _

“I zink we should start wit ze dress first,” said Fleur, like a general devising a plan of attack, “Zat is what ‘e will spend most of ze day looking at as ‘is eyes explore your body.”

The casualness with which Fleur talked about Harry lusting after Ginny made the redhead fight to repress the urge to either laugh at the absurdity or moan as it turned her on. Fleur seemed to be oblivious to Ginny’s frustrations and started holding up several outfits that looked like they belonged more in an art museum than an overcrowded country house.

First, Fleur pounced on Ginny with an ankle-length glittering gold gown, pressing it up against the length of the younger woman’s body and looking at her appraisingly.

“Hmmm,” Fleur hummed, as Ginny just awkwardly stood in silence, “Zis is similar to ze dress you will wear at ze wedding. Eet shows a good amount of chest, but ze  _ real _ eye-catcher is ze waist-’igh slit. Is ‘Arry a leg man?”

“Er—”

“But ze color is not seasonal, and zis is far too formal for a family Christmas dinner,” said Fleur, and laid the dress back down on the bed without waiting for Ginny’s opinion. Next, she picked up a brilliantly bright scarlet dress with a bare back that Ginny was  _ sure _ would reach down to the crack of her arse.

Fleur once again held the dress up to Ginny and examined it, “Well, we certainly know zat red is likely ‘Arry’s favorite color,” she teased playfully, “but zis may be too much of a good zing. All zis red is a bit...er…. _ odieuse  _ to wear in one’s own home, especially in a small sitting room, even I will say it would be too much attention. But feel free to borrow zis if you and ‘Arry ever attend a gala and ‘e wishes to show you off.”

Once again, Ginny bit back a laugh at the idea of either she  _ or  _ Harry ever willingly attending something like a  _ gala _ , while also feeling heat pooling between her legs at the idea of Harry “showing her off.”

Fleur’s next choice was a purple dress with a wide skirt that she barely held up to Ginny for two seconds before shaking her head and casting it aside. Next was an outfit that wasn’t a dress at all, but a white blouse and a black pleated mini-skirt that looked to Ginny basically like a sluttier version of her school uniform.

“Eet certainly is ‘ard,” said Fleur frustratedly, “to find somezing zat will drive your ‘Arry mad but not also make your mozzer die of fright. Ah!” she exclaimed, finally happy with something, pulling up a knee-length, strapless, emerald green cocktail dress.

“Zis is perfect!” the expert declared, turning Ginny to face the mirror, standing behind her, and reaching around her to press the dress up against Ginny’s torso. Ginny squeaked and she felt her face get hot. “Not only does ze color match your man’s eyes, combined wit your hair, you will look like Christmas!” Fleur said cheerfully. She removed herself from Ginny and hung the green dress up on a hook.

“Alright zen, out of zat bathrobe,” ordered Fleur. She waved her wand at her small bag and a folded room divider flew out of it and unfolded itself across the room, leaving Ginny hidden with the dress.

“Um...I actually don’t think this dress will work,” said Ginny, closing her eyes in embarrassment, “I don’t have any….any—er—any strapless….” she was having trouble saying the word “bras” out loud.

“No need,” said Fleur pleasantly, and Ginny could actually  _ hear _ the mischievous grin on the blonde’s face, “I can take care of zat too.”

Something black and lacy flew over the divider and hit Ginny smack in the face. She caught the thing in her hands and looked down to see an obscenely sexy  _ corset _ .

“You….you  _ can’t _ be serious!” she said, her embarrassment replaced by annoyance, “What exactly do you think Harry and I are doing!? He’s never going to even know I’m wearing this!”

_ “You _ will know,  _ belle fille _ . A woman who is ‘olding a secret beneath her dress always naturally carries ‘erself with a certain  _ je ne sais quoi _ that men always notice, but cannot put zeir finger on. Besides, your boy  _ will _ know what you are wearing—” she peeked her head around the divider with a blinding smile “—if you tell him.”

Ginny was grateful as Fleur disappeared again. She felt herself blush furiously and licked her lips at the image of the look on Harry’s face if she described to him, in  _ vivid _ detail, what was lurking beneath her dress.

“Besides,” called Fleur’s voice as Ginny shrugged off her robe, “eet will do wonders for ze parts of you zat he  _ can _ see. Zat dress does not have ze lowest cut, but ze corset will make ze most of it.”

This comment just made Ginny frown at her B-cup tits, while holding the garment that was clearly made for Fleur’s much more generous ones.

“I suppose I could use all the help I can get,” Ginny muttered, “though looking at this, I don’t think it will even fit me.”

“Do not speak like zat!” scolded Fleur, “size does not matter as much as we zink it does. Far more important is  _ shape _ , and your beautiful tits have  _ perfect  _ shape. Zey are…’perky,’ is ze word? And more important zen anyzing is  _ presentation,  _ boze in clozes and out of zem. And do not worry about ze size, ze corset is enchanted to mold to your shape.”

With butterflies in her stomach, she stepped into the corset, and with a rush of heat, it shrunk to fit her smaller tits and narrower hips. Her mouth fell open as it continued to shrink and constrict around her chest, pushing her tits up and together until they looked far more impressive than they did on their own.

“You’ll also need theeeese,” said Fleur, and Ginny could  _ hear _ her smugly inspecting her nails as another piece of fabric, much smaller and thinner than the first, flew over the divider. Ginny caught it and saw a pair of silk knickers which was barely more than some pieces of string.

“Anything special about these?” Ginny asked suspiciously, inspecting the piece of filth, “besides being trashier than Knockturn Alley, I mean.”

“Zey are enchanted to absorb moisture,” Fleur explained casually, “we wouldn’t want you making a mess if your boy fails to keep ‘is ‘ands off you.” She knew damn well what repeating the phrase “your boy” was doing to Ginny.

Ginny scowled and her anger flashed, Fleur was going too far, but her retort died in her throat, because if Harry tortured her even half as much as she intended to torture him, it would make her so wet she would have to change her panties by lunchtime, so she just silently put them on and seethed at how predictably horny she was.

Her undergarments on, she then slipped into the green dress. “Okay, I’m decent. Well, as decent as I can be after what you’ve done to me. Can you get rid of this—”

The divider shrunk down and flew back into Fleur’s bag. Ginny turned to her mirror to see how she looked, but was surprised to find it completely black.

“What did you do to my mirror!?” Ginny demanded crossly.

Fleur just wagged her finger at her. “Ah ah ah,” she tutted, “you are not yet ready, Ginevra. We must not spoil ze big reveal.”

Ginny crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “‘Big reveal?’” she scoffed, “Are you always this dramatic about everything?”

“Yes,” answered Fleur, her nose in the air, “now, sit down, and let me do your hair.”

Ginny huffed as she sat down at her desk chair. Fleur stood behind her and started brushing Ginny’s fiery locks.

After a few minutes, Ginny asked, “Are you going to actually  _ do _ anything with it, or is making me look less like a cavewoman enough of a job on its own?”

“I am just deciding on what styles we should try,” said Fleur thoughtfully, “I am zinking….of tying it up in a bun, or a high beehive.” She scooped up Ginny’s hair in her dainty fingers and started piling it on top of her head, “Eet will show off your shoulders in ze strapless dress.”

“Are  _ shoulders _ really a thing worth showing off?” asked Ginny self-consciously, “besides, mine are all freckly, I never let mum apply sunblocking charms as a kid, and plus they’re—” she gave an exasperated sigh “— _ mannish. _ Not very dainty or feminine, comes with the territory of chucking Quaffles in all your spare time.”

“‘Arry  _ likes _ your freckles, Ginny,” Fleur corrected her. She leaned down, pulled Ginny’s hair away from her ear and whispered, “‘E ‘as been counting zem, desperate for a closer look.” Ginny was suddenly grateful for Fleur’s special knickers.

Fleur stood back up and began rubbing Ginny’s shoulders, “And your muscles show zat you are  _ powerful, _ Ginevra. Zere is beauty in physical strength. Trust me, reminding ‘Arry of you playing Quidditch will  _ not _ turn ‘im off. Your shoulders are one of ze zings that make you uniquely  _ you, _ Ginny, and it is  _ you _ he loves. So you must remind him of them.”

Ginny’s body stiffened, “Okay, crank it back on the romance novel shit, veela. He  _ fancies _ me, and I fancy him, but we’ve been together for less than a day, we’re not in  _ love,  _ that would be crazy.”

“Hmm. Once again I assumed too much. I apologize.”

Ginny could hear the smirk. She rolled her eyes.

“So,” Fleur continued resolutely, “let me tie up your hair in a—and what might  _ zis _ be?”

Fleur playfully brushed a finger over a spot on Ginny’s neck, and the redhead let out a giggle, both because the contact tickled and she knew what Fleur was referring to: The blackened spot that Harry had marked her with as he sucked and nipped at her neck the night before.

“Yes, my boyfriend gave me a hickey, what about it?” said Ginny, meaning to sound embarrassed, even though she knew she couldn’t hide she was actually  _ proud, _ “you’ve got enough makeup here to feed a circus, just cover it up.”

“Hmmmm….no, I don’t zink I will,” said Fleur, pouting her lips.

“Fleur, if I show up to open gifts with a hickey on my neck—”

“Eet will be hidden. We will let your ‘air be down, and if you wish you could move it  _ just _ out of the way to show your ‘Arry the Christmas gift he left for you last night.”

Ginny bit her lip and smiled. Fleur really was a genius sometimes.

“So,” Ginny’s new mentor continued, “we just need some Sleakeazy’s to bring out ze volume and give you that smooth, silky shine. It will feel like water as he runs ‘is ‘ands through it.” With this, Fleur ran her own slender fingers through the girl’s red hair, and Ginny couldn’t help but close her eyes and hum with anticipation.

As Fleur applied the potion, it left a pleasantly tingling feeling on Ginny’s scalp, not at all as gross as she had always assumed it would be as she sneered at all the girls who cared “too much” (whatever that meant) about making themselves up for the Yule Ball. After her hair, Fleur picked out a few items from the absurdly large assortment of makeup spread out on the desk.

“Now,” Fleur began, with the voice of a professor giving an exam, “many women do not realize, ze key to makeup is not to make yourself look  _ different _ , to hide your true self, it is to make your true self shine brighter.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“Zis,” Fleur held up a jar, “is a magical foundation, it will hide blemishes and pores, but leave zose delicious freckles zat ‘Arry loves so much untouched in all zeir glory.”

Fleur gently lifted Ginny’s face by her chin and began applying the makeup, and Ginny somehow felt completely at ease, considering another person (that wasn’t Harry) was holding her face and locking her in place with intense, focused eyes. She felt more relaxed than she ever thought she would with Fleur, who she was finally admitting to herself had become one of her most trusted friends, and she felt bad about how she had talked about her sister-in-law over the summer. She felt a whole new kind of happiness at her new relationship with Harry. Feeling as loved (yes, she dared to use the word internally) as she did, having a boy as wonderful as Harry love her for who she was, didn’t just make her feel good, it made her a better person.

After the foundation came lash-lengthening mascara, a  _ tiny _ bit of blush that felt like Fleur hadn’t even applied anything at all, then a special kind of eyeshadow that used the same principle as the Polyjuice Potion, magically mirroring the exact color of each woman’s eyes, leaving her eyes smokey surrounded by gold-flecked brown.

“Zis perfume is also based on Polyjuice,” explained Fleur, holding up a small crystal bottle, “every person ‘as zeir own unique, signature scent, in’erent to zeir own bodies. I just take one of your ‘airs, put it in ze bottle, and it becomes a concentrated version of your own scent, making you smell more like you.”

Ginny looked at the bottle skeptically, “So….it literally gives you  _ more _ body odor? Isn’t that the opposite of what perfume is supposed to do?”

“Just trust me, eet will drive ‘Arry mad.”

After spraying her with perfume, Fleur then made a dramatic show of lifting up a tube of lipstick, “And zis is ze  _ pièce de résistance. _ ”

She held a hand to the back of Ginny’s head to hold her steady and began painting the redhead’s lips.

“Zis lipstick is also magic. It will  _ never _ get rubbed off, no matter ‘ow much you are kissed.”

Ginny breathing was getting fast and shallow.

“Zere is anozzer bottle that contains an antidote, just apply a single drop to your lips and it becomes normal lipstick, to take off at the end of the day—” she gave Ginny a pointed look “—or maybe if you actually  _ want _ to mark him a bit. There’s also anozzer, much more natural, substance that will break the enchantment if applied.”

“What? What substance?” asked Ginny, trying to keep her voice steady.

Fleur smiled, leaned down, and whispered the answer to her. Ginny’s eyes widened and she shoved Fleur away.”

“What is  _ wrong _ with you?” Ginny demanded as her friend just cackled, “you’re getting way too into this.”

“Eet is very entertaining,” Fleur shrugged, “eet reminds me of my own youth romances, before I got  _ experienced _ —”

“I don’t,” Ginny cut her off, “need to know how  _ experienced  _ you are, given who you’re currently having those  _ experiences _ with,” she was jarringly reminded that Fleur was her older brother’s fiance, not one of her school friends.”

Fleur nodded, still smiling, “Alright zen. Just one more step: your shoes. I zink you should wear zese.”

She held up a pair of red high heels that looked too steep for a human being to stand in, but Ginny tried them on anyway and stood up. Or rather, she tried to.

“I’m  _ already _ exhausted wearing these,” complained Ginny.

“Zere are plenty of places to sit in zis house, you are not running,” said Fleur, “if your muscles are tired, it means that it’s working. Ze heels force your legs and bum to activate. You are an athlete, Ginny, you earned zis body, you should show it off.”

With the outfit completed, Fleur guided Ginny to stand in front of the tall mirror. She waved her wand, and the mirror returned to normal. Ginny gasped.

It was like seeing herself for the first time, her  _ real _ self. The cocktail dress hugged the shape of her body so tightly that they accentuated what little hips she had that it actually gave her a slight hourglass figure. Fleur was right, it wasn’t super low-cut, but the part of her tits that  _ was _ showing looked bloody fantastic, if she did say so herself. And her blood-red lips looked so plump, so full, so  _ kissable _ that she almost felt an impulse to snog her own reflection. It’s like she was finally seeing herself as Harry saw her when he got  _ that look  _ in his eyes.

“Ginny Weasley’s smart mouth rendered speechless,” said Fleur, “my greatest masterpiece.”

Ginny swallowed hard, trying to keep out the intense emotions she was feeling and smiled genuinely at her friend, “I really like it, thank you.”

And, doing something that would have felt insane 7 days earlier, Ginny stepped forward and pulled Fleur into a tight hug. For a moment, it was the smug veela’s turn to be rendered speechless, before returning the embrace.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Ginny declared proudly, removing herself, “there’s a perfectly fit, healthy young man downstairs that I need to give a heart attack.”

Knowing it was only a matter of time before Fleur got ready herself, and ended up effortlessly looking even more beautiful than what she had turned Ginny into, she left her bedroom to get some alone time in the spotlight. First, she checked to make sure the bathroom was empty, then quietly cracked open Ron’s door to find Harry’s camp bed empty. Satisfied that her target was downstairs, she hoped he was sitting on the sitting room couch, with a perfect view of the bottom of the staircase.

She started making her way down the stairs to the ground floor, making each step noisy with her stiletto heels to draw attention to her entrance, and as the sitting room came into her view, there he was, his jaw practically on the floor from her legs and body preceding her face down the stairs. As he swayed and quickly sat down to avoid falling over, his eyes taking inventory of her entire body, Ginny’s face spread into an intense, predatory smile, telling him without words that they were going to have a very happy, but very frustrating, Christmas.


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new couple deals with Ginny's family, for better and worse

Ginny was a goddess.

There was simply no other explanation for it. The terrified girl with a crush he had first met, and the spunky tomboy he had come to know, and the brave warrior he had fallen for, had all been acts. She was actually some ancient goddess of beauty and femininity and was only now revealing her true form. Every single part of her seemed like it had been polished and revealed after years of gathering dust. She had mentioned she had planned on getting made up for Christmas, but this couldn’t have been it. She didn’t look “made up,” or anything that artificial, she simply looked  _ more _ Ginny.

Her eyes looked  _ more _ like her eyes. They seemed somehow bigger, as if he could just fall into them. The chocolate that their color was reminiscent of had never looked more delicious. 

Her hair looked  _ more _ like her hair. She seemed to have grown more of it overnight. It seemed to defy gravity, bouncing as she walked down the stairs, licking her bare, freckled shoulders, and resting higher on her head. It looked so shiny and thick that he doubted he would even be able to run his fingers through it, but dear  _ lord _ did he want to try. He had always thought she had the most brilliant shade possible of red hair, but now it seemed  _ more _ red, like it was eating up all the color in the room and made the whole world look grey by comparison.

Her body looked  _ more _ like her body. His eyes drank in every curve and outline that her dress ( _ where _ had that dress been all his life) hugged to show him, from her toned, powerful legs to her strong shoulders, and in between her sensual feminine hips, flat stomach, and two perfectly round, pert breasts, showing just enough cleavage to invite Harry to form a mental picture of what lay beneath. It reminded him of a marking for buried treasure.

But what his eyes abandoned all of this for, what they focused on with such intensity he was afraid they would pop out of his head, were her lips. It simply wasn’t possible for a human being to have such beautiful lips. They seemed to constantly shift in their shade of red, from ruby to scarlet to blood to crimson, working in perfect tandem with her hair to bring color to a lifeless world. They were so full, so conspicuous, they were practically  _ begging _ to be kissed, and it was a crime against nature that they weren’t currently being kissed with the passion and devotion they deserved.

He had an overwhelming gut instinct to leap to his feet, sprint across the room, and crush her in an embrace, and kiss her like his life depended on it (at the moment, it felt like it did), but he found that her beauty was just as intimidating as it was alluring. To actually  _ touch _ something so perfect with his own imperfect hands seemed almost like sacrilege.

Ginny thought that Harry was going to have to stop looking at her with such adoration or she might start crying, and it would be a shame to ruin this great makeup. Already it was turning her on so much she concluded the blush makeup she had applied was entirely unnecessary. She decided to throw him a lifeline with some of their banter.

“Good morning, Harry,” she said to him as nonchalantly as she could. But she frowned when he just wordlessly swallowed and nodded.

She crossed the room (his eyes widening and his heart racing), grabbed him by the hands, and yanked him to his feet.

“Really, Potter?” said Ginny slyly, “You can’t even manage a ‘It certainly is?’ I expect you to be more than a pretty face, you’ve got to give me some back and forth here.”

Harry grinned goofily and shook his head hard. “Sorry, I can’t words good right now,” he said, earning a sweet giggle from his girlfriend. He took in a deep breath, which did nothing for his lightheadedness, “and it’s even worse now that I can smell you as well as see you.”

“Really?” Ginny said, genuinely surprised, “I was actually apprehensive about this perfume, Fleur said it’s based on Polyjuice Potion, and it makes me smell more like  _ me, _ whatever that means. Sounds kinda gross, honestly.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the single greatest smell in the world,” he said, still out of breath, grasping her hands for dear life.

After a moment of just gazing at her in a way that made her melt, he asked, “Did Slughorn show your year Amortentia on the first day?”

At first Ginny was taken aback at the seemingly random question, but then her stomach fluttered and she smiled widely at where she suspected (or hoped) he was going with this.

“Yeah, he gave the same routine to everyone. I think he was trying to show that Potions didn’t have been miserable if it wasn’t taught by Snape.”

“There was a smell in the potion that I couldn’t quite place at the time,” he said in a low voice. He removed his hands from hers and wrapped her in his arms, pressing his nose to the crown of her head and taking in a deep breath, and almost passed out. “It wasn’t until later that I realized where I had fleetingly smelled it before, and now you’ve got the nerve to  _ spray _ yourself in it, you cruel woman.

Ginny wanted to cackle in triumph, but instead she buried her face deeper into his chest and inhaled a deep breath of her own.

“Merlin, you really are slow on the uptake, aren’t you Potter,” she teased him, “I recognized the smell of  _ this _ in the potion instantly. It was rather annoying, to be honest, I had really convinced myself I was over you.”

He chuckled, and pressed against him as she was, she felt every bit of it. “Well I’m glad you were wrong about that,” said Harry.

“Hmm, I am too,” Ginny agreed, and took a step back away from him to give him another proper view.

“So how do I look?” she asked him, holding her arms out and twirling, “Fleur let me borrow one of her dresses.”

“Borrowed?” said Harry, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t think so. You’re keeping that, I’ll duel her for it if I have to.”

Ginny laughed and smiled even wider, “Fleur said that I looked like Christmas.”

Harry’s smile softened as he looked her up and down appraisingly, making Ginny feel like she was being strip-searched (in a good way).

“No, I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully, “You look like summer. That dress is the exact shade of green as the leaves of the oak tree we would rest under after Quidditch last summer. A tree I plan on snogging you under as soon as weather permits, by the way. You’ve always reminded me of summer and the sun, Ginny, you make every room you walk into brighter and warmer.”

Ginny felt weak in the knees and her heart ached. She bit her tongue to keep herself from spilling a long tirade that included the L word.

“And what in the bloody hell are you doing just standing there, Potter?” said Ginny fiercely, “You can’t just say things like that to a girl if you don’t mean to kiss her.”

He still felt just as in awe of her as he did when she made her entrance, but now felt sure enough of himself that it didn’t feel wrong to touch her. He stepped toward her, reached out his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her silky hair reminded him of his Invisibility Cloak, feeling as smooth as water in his fingers. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch instinctively pouting her lips in offering to him. He leaned down, and had barely brushed her sweet lips with his own when—

“Whoever’s in there, if you’re awake you can help me with breakfast!”

At the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s voice calling from the kitchen, Harry jumped back away from Ginny as if she had given him an electric shock, then blushed and looked away sheepishly as she affectionately rolled her eyes at him.

“Coming, Mum!” Ginny answered, then looked at Harry with a smirk and jerked her head towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

Screaming internally, Harry followed Ginny into the kitchen. They found Mrs. Weasley with her back to them, at the stove over an enormous skillet of sausages, a platter of scrambled eggs and potatoes already on the table.

“What can I do, Mrs. Weasley?” asked Harry, trying to convince himself as much as her that he was pleasantly eager instead of disappointed.

“Oh Harry, you’re up too, wonderful,” said Mrs Weasley, not turning around, “Take the scones out of the oven, would you please? Ginny dear, set the table.”

Harry almost dropped the hot tray when Ginny ran a discreet finger up his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He glared at her and she just gave a sly smile and winked at him.

_ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be _ .

After they had set the table, Mrs. Weasley finally turned around to look at them, and gasped when she looked at Ginny.

“Ginny! Where did you get that dress, we can’t afford something like that!”

“Fleur lent it to me,” Ginny said casually, “She thought it would be fun to get dressed up for Christmas, even if we’re not going anywhere. You know I’m not normally into this kind of stuff, I mainly just went along with it to give me something to talk about with her.” Harry had to keep himself from laughing at her blatant lie.

“Oh. Fleur. I see,” said Mrs. Weasley, a trace of scorn in her voice.

“Can I not pull it off?” asked Ginny. She tried to sound as meek and unsure as she could, even though after what Harry had said to her she knew she was wearing the  _ hell _ out of this dress.

“Oh Ginny dear, no, you look positively radiant!” Mrs. Weasley said hastily, “It’s just….well, it’s rather close-fitting, isn’t it? You’re really too young to be wearing such a—”

“It’s just us, mum,” said Ginny, waving her off, “I’m stuck in this house where the only men are my family, Harry, and Lupin, who exactly do I need to be afraid of? Fleur and I just played dress-up, it’s not like I’m wearing it  _ for _ anyone,” she lied again. She wasn’t truly nervous about her family finding out that Harry was her boyfriend now, but it was still a big leap to admitting “I wore a slutty dress to make Harry horny.”

Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry, determined to change the subject, “Harry dear, where’s your new sweater? I didn’t make it too small, did I, you’ve been growing so fast.”

“Oh, er, no, Mrs. Weasley, I’m sure it’s brilliant,” stammered Harry, “I haven’t actually opened my presents yet, I’ve been pretty distracted since I woke up, dreams and all.” He silently begged her to not ask what kind of dreams, and what had been distracting him so much this morning.

“Oh that’s fine, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, “just let me know if I need to make adjustments.”

As Harry sat down at the table and Ginny took the place to his right, the next arrival to the kitchen was Mr. Weasley. After giving his wife a kiss on the cheek as she set the sausages down on the table, he gave a brief glance in their direction before doing a hard double-take towards Ginny.

“Well, look at you!” he said with amusement, “When’s the ball? I need to dig out my dress robes, I hope they still fit.”

“She borrowed a dress from Fleur,” Mrs Weasley said curtly, informing him to ignore the subject. She clearly was torn between appreciation that Ginny had stopped calling Fleur “Phlegm,” her own lingering reservations toward her future daughter-in-law, and her disapproval of her youngest child looking like a supermodel.

Shortly after Harry, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley began digging into breakfast and Mrs. Weasley switched to frying bacon, they heard loud banging coming down the stairs, and before Mrs. Weasley could even voice her displeasure at the noise, Fred and George came bursting into the kitchen followed closely by Ron. He seemed to be chasing the twins as Fred held aloft something glinting gold in the morning sun and George held three packages.

“Start planning another wedding, Mum!” Fred announced, “Ronniekins is in loooooove!”

“ _ What!?”  _ Mrs. Weasley yelped.

“Ignore him, Mum, it’s just a stupid Christmas present. Give it back!” Ron started chasing Fred in circles around the table, oblivious to Mrs. Weasley’s demands to behave, until they both came crashing into her shield charm and went sprawling to the floor.

“Are you two of age or not!?” she berated the twins scathingly, as Ron hastily grabbed the thing Fred was keeping from him, but not before Harry and Ginny saw what it was: a thick gold chain from which dangled large gold letters spelling the words “MY SWEETHEART.” They both joined Fred and George in raucous laughter.

“Shut up, you two,” Ron mumbled at them as he took the seat on the other side of Harry from Ginny, “I just….how could she think I’d like something like that, though?”

“Well, think back,” said Harry, “Have you ever let it slip that you’d like to go out in public with the words ‘My Sweetheart’ round your neck?”

“Well….we don’t really talk much,” said Ron. “It’s mainly….”

“Snogging,” said Ginny sardonically.

“Well, yeah,” said Ron. Then, his eyes narrowed as he focused for the first time on his sister. “What the bloody hell—”

“Who’s this broad?” asked Fred.

“And where’s our baby sister?” finished George, “Since when do you dress like a girl?”

“Drop it, you three!” Mrs. Weasley told them sternly, but Ginny had no interest in dropping it.

“Despite how much  _ you lot _ tried to make me feel ashamed of it all my life,” she told them icily, “I  _ am _ still a woman! I don’t see the point in pretending otherwise.” All three of her brothers grimaced.

“No no no no,” said George, wagging his finger, “We’ll do you the courtesy of admitting you’re a girl, but no way is our baby sister a woman.”

Ginny had half a mind to climb into Harry’s lap and prove that she very much  _ was _ a woman, but Harry seemed to sense her incoming outburst and hurriedly changed the subject.

“What’s that, George?” Harry asked, pointing to the packages he was holding.

“You forgot your presents, you git, Christmas isn’t complete without your Weasley jumper,” and he tossed him the package marked as being from Mrs. Weasley. Harry unwrapped it to reveal a sweater with a large Golden Snitch worked into the front.

“Put it on, can’t you see the stress you’re causing my poor mother?” George ordered.

“Maybe you should put yours on as well,” Fred said to Ginny, “you must be freezing.” Ginny gave him the finger while Mrs. Weasley’s back was turned.

The second package contained a large assortment of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products.

“But I’m really curious about this one, Harry,” George tossed him the final package. It was damp, moldy-smelling, and came with a label reading TO MASTER, FROM KREACHER.

Harry stared at it. “D’you reckon it’s safe to open?” he asked.

“Can’t be anything dangerous, all our mail’s still being searched at the Ministry,” replied Ginny, though she was eyeing the parcel suspiciously.

“I didn’t think of giving Kreacher anything. Do people usually give their house-elves Christmas presents?” asked Harry, prodding the parcel cautiously.

“Hermione would,” said Ron, “But let’s wait and see what it is before you start feeling guilty.”

A moment later, Harry gave a loud yell and leapt out of his seat; the package contained a large number of maggots, spilling them all over the kitchen floor.

Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

“Oh dear!” yelled Mr. Weasley.

Ron, Ginny, and the twins roared with laughter. “Nice, very thoughtful,” said Ron.

“I’m  _ so _ sorry!” Harry said frantically to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and dove to his knees to try to pick up the maggots, but then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Harry,” said Ginny, smiling down at him affectionately, “you’re forgetting that magic is a thing again.”

“It’s alright, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, and with a wave of his wand the mess of maggots vanished.

After somehow managing to not lose their appetites, the six of them sat down at the table and resumed eating. But before long, they were interrupted again by Bill and Fleur arriving downstairs. Bill was staring unbreakingly at Fleur with a goofy expression, and for good reason. She looked even more radiant than her usual self, wearing a long, glittering silver dress, and made up with the same bag of tricks she used to help Ginny. The redhead grimaced as Ron resumed his pathetic ogling, and she nervously looked at her boyfriend expecting to see the same thing, once again looking plain next to the gorgeous older witch. But when she stole a glance at him, she caught him only looking at her with the same adoration and desire he had given her all morning. When their eyes met he awkwardly looked back down at his plate and Ginny once again had to resist the urge to start violently snogging him.

As Bill and Fleur took their own seats at the table, Bill had his turn to do a double-take at Ginny. He was the first one to look legitimately cross.

“What the bloody hell?” asked Bill, gesturing towards Ginny.

“ _ Language! _ ” Mrs. Weasley chided him.

“Am I the only one who notices that my baby sister is dressed like a—”

“Like a  _ what?” _ Ginny challenged him.

“ _ Oui, _ Guillaume, like a what?” Fleur joined in, “Zose are  _ my _ zings she ees wearing, so please tell me.”

Bill looked at his fiance in complete shock.  _ “You _ did this?”

“ _ Oui, _ and  _ I  _ am wearing all ze same zings, so do  _ I _ look like...whatever you were going to say?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to respond.

Bill looked back and forth between his sister and his fiance, thoroughly taken aback by this unexpected team-up, before realizing there was no way to win this and turned back to his eggs. Ron and the twins were grinning widely at their usually cool eldest brother being rendered speechless.

Once the Weasley’s final guest, Lupin, finally joined them, looking tired as ever, the kitchen table had become very crowded, and Harry was smushed frustratingly close to Ginny, their arms rubbing up against each other, and he felt a desire to wrap his arm around her bare shoulders and pull her close.

His frustration got even worse when he felt Ginny hook her foot around his ankle and started rubbing it up and down the back of his calf. He stole a glance over to her and nearly choked to death on a piece of sausage. Ginny was casually playing with her hair, and as she moved it away from her neck she exposed, very conspicuously for the whole damn table to see, the dark hickey he had left there the night before. In a panic, he looked around the table, relieved to see no one had seemed to notice. When he looked back at her, she was giving him an  _ infuriating _ smirk, then subtly stuck her tongue out at him.

_ That’s it, _ he thought,  _ two can play at this game. _

Setting his knife down, he subtly moved his hand beneath the table and gently placed it above Ginny’s knee. He felt her jerk a bit at his touch, but otherwise she gave no sign of arousal. Frowning at her composure, Harry started to gently massage her thigh and moved his hand higher up her leg. He saw her breath hitch and her breathing became shallow and intense, and she gained a slight blush on her cheeks, but he only noticed because he was paying such close attention to her. She didn’t even give him the courtesy of fumbling her conversation with her mother about her classes.  _ He _ was honestly getting more visibly flustered, feeling her impossibly smooth skin, the toned muscles of her powerful thighs, and vividly imagining what lurked further up her leg beneath her dress.

It got even worse when Ginny, apparently more frustrated than she was letting on, took her chance for revenge.

“Harry, you’ve got a maggot in your hair,” Ginny said cheerfully, reaching up to pick it out; Harry felt goosebumps erupt up his neck that had nothing to do with the maggot. She made a second pass at his hair, just to make sure it was clean, of course, running her fingers through it and making his eyes flutter shut involuntarily. When he opened them again, Ginny was looking back at Fred describing the joke shop’s latest products like nothing had happened. Harry grumpily turned back to his food, but froze when he saw Lupin, sitting across the table from them and giving Harry an alarmingly knowing look. Harry felt himself blush in embarrassment, and Lupin looked pointedly between Harry and Ginny, raising an eyebrow in a look that clearly said,  _ Seriously? _

Harry meekly gave a half-shrug and Lupin dissolved into stifled laughter.

Once everyone was finished eating, Ginny volunteered herself and Harry to do the washing, hoping for a chance for some more covert teasing, maybe even getting in a snog while alone in the kitchen. Ginny didn’t really know why she was keeping this a secret. It’s not like she thought her family would disapprove, or that she would even care if they did. Keeping a secret about her romance with the boy of her dreams just seemed exciting. It was hot.

But when her family left for the sitting room, Harry had a much more serious expression than she expected.

“Okay, seriously, how were you keeping it so cool?” he asked her, “I was going mad, I almost threw you onto the table.”

Ginny smiled proudly. “Oh Harry,” she said in a soft voice, “trust me, I was every bit as turned on as you, I just have more practice at hiding it.”

“Practice?” said Harry, “We’ve been together for less than twelve hours.”

“Yes,” said Ginny, brushing nothing off his shoulders, “but I had to learn how to stay decent and pretend I didn’t want to jump you long before that. That’s my secret, Harry,” she leaned in close and whispered, “I’m  _ always _ horny around you.”

She pulled back and looked at his blush, satisfied. “You’re playing  _ my _ game now, silly boy, you really don’t stand a chance.”

But Harry was still looking oddly serious. “Look, Ginny, I’ve had fun, but if you keep being that brazen then they actually are going to find out. Especially if you keep flashing that hickey, I thought you were going to cover that up.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows and looked at him with her hands on her hips. “Okay, Potter, what gives? I was just keeping it a secret because it’s a bit of fun, but you seem genuinely worried that they’ll find out. You realize they kind of have to at some point, right?”

“I know,” said Harry nervously, messing his hair again, “I was just kind of thinking, maybe it would be better to wait until we’re back at school, then write to them about it.”

Ginny snorted in laughter. “And  _ why _ exactly would we do that? You can’t  _ possibly _ think they’ll be upset, they love you!”

“Well yeah, as Ron’s best friend, or as a surrogate son. Not as the bloke dating the baby of the family,” said Harry worriedly. He broke her gaze and stared down at his feet. “I love your whole family, Ginny. They’re the only family I’ve ever had. I don’t want that to change, but things kind of have to change now. They have to be more stern toward the daughter’s boyfriend, isn’t that, I don’t know, just how things work? I’m not even sure if they’ll be comfortable with me staying at your house now.”

He looked back up at her and got more than a little cross at the look she was giving him. Here he was, spilling out his worst fears, but she was looking at him like he had just said the stupidest thing she had ever heard in her life.

Before he could respond, Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen again, holding two teacups.

“Here’s two more for the wash, dear—” she was struck silent at the sight of the intense stare Harry and Ginny were giving each other.

Then, after a beat of silence, Ginny wordlessly raised her hands, thumped them hard against Harry’s chest, grabbed him firmly by his shirt collar, pulled him down towards her, and crashed her lips into his.

Having gone so long without  _ really _ touching her, Harry’s mind was instantly wiped of all of his insecurities, or any thoughts at all for that matter, and he entered blissful oblivion. Acting on instinct, he returned her kiss fiercely, tasting those lips that had been calling to him all morning, and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close to him desperately—

The loud sound of a crash sent him crashing down to Earth, and with a jolt in his stomach he remembered they weren’t alone. His eyes shot open and he leapt away from Ginny. He looked over and saw Mrs. Weasley standing with both hands clasped over her mouth, eyes wide, and the shattered remains of both teacups strewn at her feet.

Harry frantically looked back and forth between his girlfriend and her mother, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. But before he could think of anything to say, Mrs. Weasley’s look of shock was instantaneously replaced with a look of manic happiness that honestly made Harry even  _ more _ uncomfortable. Then, she let out a loud, frantic cheer, crossed the room in a flash and pulled both Harry and Ginny into a crushing hug.

“Oh, finally! I always knew you two were meant for each other!” Ginny gave Harry a look over her mother’s shoulders that said she hoped he realized how ridiculous he had been..

Mrs. Weasley released them, stepped back and just stood there beaming at them. This time it was Ginny who started to get uncomfortable.

“Look, Mum, can you please not be weird about this,” she asked as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and he placed an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m not being weird!” Mrs. Weasley said defensively, but she just continued to beam at them adoringly.

“What the hell was that noise? Is there a banshee in there?”

Harry swore internally at the sound of Ron’s voice as he entered the kitchen. Ron took one sweeping look at the shattered cups, his mother’s ecstatic happiness, and Harry and Ginny’s entanglement, and threw his head back and groaned.

“Oh,  _ bloody hell!” _

“Ronald Weasley, watch your tongue!”

“What’s got Ronniekins using such naughty words?” one of the twins’ voices called from the sitting room.

Suddenly, it was  _ Ron _ who looked panicked. “Er—Nothing!” Mum just dropped something! I’ve got— _ dammit. _ ”

“Ronald!”

Fred entered the kitchen looking curious. Harry didn’t know why  _ Ron _ of all people was afraid of Fred finding out that Harry was dating Ginny.

When Fred saw the scene before him and drew the correct conclusion, his face broke into a menacing grin and he rubbed his hands together greedily. Harry nervously gulped, envisioning all of the “fun” the joke shop owner could have at Harry’s expense, as would be his brotherly duty.

But instead, he turned around and called to the rest of the house, “Bill! George! Time to pay up!”

Bill and George re-entered the kitchen, looking confused. Ron groaned and looked dejected. Fred gestured toward Harry and Ginny with one hand and held his palm open toward his brothers with the other. “I believe  _ I _ had Fifth Year?”

Realization dawned on Harry and Ginny’s faces. “You prats made a  _ bet _ about us!?” she asked angrily.

“I  _ won _ a bet about you, dear sister,” Fred answered with a grin.

“Boys, that is disgusting,” Mrs. Weasley chided her sons, “I raised you better than that!”

“I  _ wish _ you would have raised me better,” Bill mumbled, digging into his pockets, “then I would be out twenty galleons. I bet Ginny’s seventh year.”

“I bet that it would be as soon as she chucked Corner,” said George, digging into his own pockets, “Cho and Dean cost me a good bit of change.”

“We’re sorry our love lives are such a financial inconvenience for you, brother mine,” said Ginny sardonically.

After collecting from Bill and George, Fred held his hand out greedily to Ron, who just snorted. “What are you expecting? You know damn well I don’t have twenty galleons.”

“What did you bet?” asked Harry, who found the whole thing more amusing than Ginny did.

“Not until after you were both out of school, if ever.”

Harry snorted derisively, “Well thanks for the vote of confidence, mate.” Ron just shrugged.

George moved to pocket his winnings, but was interrupted by Fleur barging in from the sitting room. “Ah ah ah!” she tutted at him, “Not so fast! I believe I am entitled to ze bigger portion of ze winnings. You may ‘ave bet eet would ‘appen by ze end of Ginny’s fifth school term, but  _ I _ bet eet would happen by ze new year.”

She turned and winked at Ginny, who was gaping open-mouthed at her.

“When the hell did you enter this?” Ginny demanded.

“Zis past summer,” said Fleur, as if it was obvious, “after I first saw you and your ‘Arry come inside from Quidditch.”

“What’s got everyone so worked up?” asked Mr. Weasley as he entered the now-crowded kitchen. Lupin followed curiously behind him.

“Oh yeah, sure, everybody come see the show!” said Ginny, throwing her hands in the air.

Mrs. Weasley smiled again and was about to tell him, no doubt with a ton of affection, but Ron cut him off.

“Nothing, just Harry and Ginny have started snogging,” he said. His mother shot him a glare for putting it so crassly.

Lupin erupted in laughter and held his hand out to Mr. Weasley, who sighed in resignation and pressed a single gold coin into Lupin’s hand.

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes widened incredulously. “ _ Arthur!” _

“It was just a bit of fun!” he said defensively, “Everyone knew it would happen eventually.”

“Really?” asked Harry, looking around awkwardly at the large number of people, “ _ Everyone?” _

“Everyone but you, silly boy,” said Ginny, patting his chest.

“It was fun guessing just how much of a moron you would turn out to be,” said Ron.

“Do you  _ really  _ want to talk about being a moron about girls right now, Ronald?” said Harry crossley. Ron looked away and shut up.

As the conversation shifted to Fleur and George’s argument about whether she had  _ really _ been a part of the bet, the audience started drifting out of the kitchen back into the sitting room, leaving the new couple alone once again so they could finally start washing the dishes.

“For the record, you  _ were _ being a moron,” she said, bumping his elbow with her own, “Seriously? ‘They might not even let me stay here?’ I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“I know,” said Harry, “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“Hmmm...me neither. I think you have to remind me.”

He leaned down and kissed her sweetly, then deepened it until he earned a moan from her, and wondered how it was possible for Harry James Potter to actually be this happy.

  
  
  


The rest of the day was, without question, the happiest Christmas that Ginny had ever had. As she suspected, lounging on the couch by the fire with her boyfriend’s arm wrapped tightly around her, sipping butterbeer and talking with their family, was every bit as wonderful as snogging and groping him.

Well,  _ almost _ as wonderful. she couldn’t pretend she didn’t get turned on when he had to conveniently place a cushion over his lap when her hand rested above his knee. And as much as Ginny had boasted about how much more experienced she was at this game, she still had to press her legs firmly together to get a hold of herself as he traced light circles over her bare shoulders. And while Harry had at first been relieved at Mrs. Weasley being so thoroughly approving of him dating her daughter, it didn’t help their predicament that she kept stealing knowing sideways glances at them, trying not to smile.

“Maybe you were right about waiting until we were back at school,” Ginny whispered in his ear, “that way I could write her a letter and she could get all that out of her system. I swear she’s already planning the wedding.” Harry found that he didn’t really have a problem with that.

When they sat down for Christmas dinner that afternoon, Ginny had gotten so used to her and Harry being wrapped around each other that she felt lonely as they dug into their helpings of turkey. She had to force herself and Harry into not being  _ completely _ engrossed in just each other and make conversation with the others, lest they invite even more teasing from her family, even though nobody was saying anything about Fleur feeding Bill some turkey from her own fork.

As Harry was asking Lupin about Tonks’s Patronus, dinner was interrupted by her mother.

“Arthur!” said Mrs. Weasley, standing at the kitchen window with her hand pressed over her heart, “Arthur — it’s Percy!”

“ _ What?” _

Mr. Weasely looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone.

“Arthur, he’s — he’s with the Minister!”

The hopeful bubble in Ginny’s chest burst, replaced by a feeling of icy water. She looked sideways at her boyfriend, suspecting that the  _ real _ reason her prodigal brother had returned had nothing to do with a change of heart. Her suspicion was confirmed when the Minister made an insultingly transparent excuse to get Harry alone out in the garden, and soon Percy was alone in the kitchen with his estranged family, his mother the only one looking happy to see him.

After Mrs. Weasley’s happy sobs had finally subsided, the awkward silence stretched on until she felt the urge to break it.

“Perce, dear, why don’t you sit down? You must be hungry—”

“I won’t be here long, Mother,” he cut her off, “The Minister and I have other business to attend to—”

“And he wouldn’t want to lower himself by breaking bread with the shame of the wizarding world,” said George, “not now that he’s played his role in giving Scrimgeour a chance to ambush Harry.”

“ _ George!” _ hissed Mrs. Weasley.

“I...I said some things to you all that I wish I could take back,” said Percy to his feet. A small part of Ginny that she tried to ignore started to believe that maybe her family was about to be whole again, but that part of her was quickly smashed when the git had the gall to actually try to defend himself.

“It’s just that…” he began tentatively, “I was just so  _ frustrated _ . It felt like my own family wasn’t believing in me, in favor of what seemed like a conspiracy theory. I know now that it was all true, but try to understand how it looked. There was no proof—”

“NO PROOF!?” shouted Ron, jumping to his feet, “Harry  _ saw _ it!”

“Exactly, Ron,” said Percy curtly, “we were being asked to turn the Ministry upside down and send the country into a panic based on nothing more than Harry’s word. It was natural to be skeptical—”

“ _ Skeptical!? _ ” Ron repeated, getting even angrier, “You sent me a letter warning me he was mad and violent, you wanted me to spy on him for Umbridge!”

“Yes, well,” said Percy, adjusting his glasses impatiently, “I would still say that —  _ objectively _ speaking — that’s more believable than You-Know-Who returning! I know he’s your friend, Ron, but he’s not family. It’s not far-fetched to think that he might take advantage—”

“Oh yes, I’m sure that to  _ you _ it seemed obvious that he was just an ambitious git who wanted attention,” spat Ginny, “because that’s what  _ you _ would do!”

“That’s not—” he turned on her, but stopped and did a double-take. He looked confused for a split-second, then gave a look of realization. It seemed that, until that moment, he hadn’t truly realized that the redheaded woman sitting at the table had been his little sister the whole time. And now, he wasn’t giving her a look of amusement like her father, or even uncomfortable protectiveness like Bill.

He looked completely disgusted.

The sense of confidence and power she had carried ever since she first looked at herself in the mirror that morning was wiped away in an instant. In its place, Ginny now felt dirty. Despicable. Pathetic. She felt like she was going to be sick.

“Well, with all due respect, Ginny,” said Percy, sounding like no respect was due at all, “I hardly think you’re one to speak objectively about this.

Ginny clenched her fists until she felt her nails digging into her palm. “And what is  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

“Well it’s not exactly that much of a stretch to think he might have gotten used to hero worship after being followed around by a fangirl for three years!”

There were several seconds of silence as everyone was too shocked to speak. Even Mrs. Weasley was giving him a look of complete betrayal.

“ _ Percy…” _ she whispered in a weak voice.

“I didn’t…” Percy stammered, looking fearful, “That is….that was perhaps a bit uncalled—”

He was interrupted when the entire contents of the bowl of mashed parsnips flew off the table, apparently of their own accord, and splattered him squarely in the face, knocking him backward as he scrambled to take off his glasses. Ginny hadn’t touched her wand, but she knew that she had been the one to send the projectile. She could feel her eyes watering, her face burning, and a sob stabbing in the back of her throat.

Mrs. Weasley shrieked in alarm and rushed to him to make sure he wasn’t injured, but he pushed her away and she finally started crying. Once he could see again, Percy stormed to the door and wrenched it open. He turned back one final time towards his brothers.

“I suppose I’ll have to owe you all the twenty galleons,” then strode forcefully across the garden, rejoining the Minister, and they both reached the boundaries of the wards and Disapparated.

The kitchen was silent except for the sounds of her mother crying, and Ginny couldn’t hold it in anymore. She tried to hide her face as tears started streaming down it, she ran from the kitchen and fled up the stairs.

  
  
  


Harry passed Percy on his way back into the house, deliberately not looking at him, and entered the kitchen again just in time to see Ginny’s legs disappearing up the stairs. He surveyed the scene in front of him and saw Mrs. Weasley sobbing into her husband’s chest, Ron pacing furiously back and forth across the room, Fleur gently stroking Bill’s back as he glared red-faced down at the table, and the twins exchanging increasingly colorful and unflattering descriptions of Percy.

“What….what happened?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Oh, nothing surprising,” Ron growled, “Just the usual, Percy being the world’s biggest git.” This prompted an even louder sob from Mrs. Weasley, and Ron bit his tongue from saying more.

“‘Ee was so ‘orrible to Ginny,” said Fleur sadly, “Someone should see eef she iz alright.”

Mrs. Weasley removed herself from her husband’s embrace, evidently eager to distract herself with a bit of mothering. “Oh, I’ll go—”

“No,” said Harry, “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Oh,” gasped Mrs. Weasley, taken aback, “...Alright, Harry, just let her know we’re all here for her.”

Harry was halfway up the stairs before it fully caught up with him just how assertive he had been, and he was surprised with himself. But he stood by it. He knew that Mrs. Weasley would try to play devil’s advocate, assuring Ginny that Percy hadn’t meant whatever he had said, and that he would come around eventually. Fred, George, or Ron would simply lay into Percy and reiterate what a complete prat he was. Harry honestly had no idea what Ginny needed right now, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t that.

As Harry reached the landing in front of Ginny’s bedroom door, he took a deep breath. Then, he timidly knocked on her door.

“ _ Go away!” _

He winced. Shit. This was a terrible idea. “Sorry!” he called through her door, “I’ll leave you alone!”

“Wait! Harry!” she answered, sounding worried, “Come in!”

He slowly opened the door and entered, finding his girlfriend sitting on her bed, furiously removing her now-smeared eye makeup. He closed the door behind him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking at him, “thought you were my mum.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured her, taking a few steps closer.

“It was running all over the place,” she said pointedly, waiving the makeup-covered tissue. Then she added, very quietly, “for the best anyway, I looked like a whore.”

“ _ WHAT!?”  _ he growled angrily. Without thinking, he sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped his arm around her. “Is that what he said to you?”

“No no no,” she said, waving her hand, “He just...he said something that made me feel….”

She turned to look into his eyes. Her lip started trembling, and finally, she collapsed into him, throwing her arms around him and sobbing against his neck. Harry just sat there like an idiot, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. He was furious with himself. This was his moment of truth. Snogging and snuggling and bantering was easy,  _ this _ was his first true test as a boyfriend, and he had absolutely no idea what to say to make her feel better. He just kept rubbing his hand up and down her side.

“I just….” she began, sniffling, “This was supposed to be  _ over _ by now! Why is he  _ still _ being a git, why can’t he just say he’s sorry?”

Again, Harry tried to find an explanation to give her, but couldn’t find one.

After several minutes, Ginny’s sobs subsided and she lapsed into breathing contentedly against him. Eventually, she spoke again.

“Remember how I told my brothers that they always tried to make me feel ashamed of being a girl growing up?”

He moved his hand up to her shoulder and began tracing little paths between the freckles he knew so well already.

“Yeah?” Harry whispered softly into the crown of her head.

“He was the only one who never did that,” said Ginny sadly, “He would read to me all the girly books I wanted, he didn’t make fun of me when I played with dolls, he even played tea parties with me a few times. He never made me feel like there was anything wrong with being a girl, never wished that I had been one more brother.”

He moved his hand again to take a small lock of her hair and began twisting it in his fingers.

“Believe me, Ginny, there is absolutely  _ nothing _ wrong with you being a girl.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, and with her ear pressed into his chest, she could hear his heartbeat pick up at the sound.

She pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes once more. Those eyes that looked at the same time like they could pierce through her and she could dive into them.

“Thank you,” she told him softly, cupping his cheek with her hand.

He scoffed and smiled goofily, “For what? I barely said anything. I felt kind of useless, to be honest.”

“You said plenty,” said Ginny, leaning into his touch as he continued to stroke her hair, “You let me fall to pieces, and didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. You manage to say so much just in the way you touch me.” She took his hand from her hair and kissed his knuckles. Then, she wrapped one arm around his neck and placed her other hand on his chest, and pulled him close.

For the next several minutes, all they did was kiss. With every time their lips pressed together, she tried to pour every ounce of affection and gratitude she felt into him, and he tried to return with a promise that he would protect her and comfort her whenever she needed him. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest, so they could feel each other’s heartbeat. When Ginny had her fill of their puckered lips moving together, she let her tongue slide along his bottom lip. He accepted the invitation eagerly, and they opened their mouths to let their tongues swirl and dance gently with each other. His hand gripped her hip firmly, and let out a deep, primal growl into her mouth, earning a sweet moan from her own. Ginny started subconsciously rubbing her thighs together. Even this kind of passionate kissing wasn’t enough. This was their first proper snog since the previous night, and her need for him had come back with a fury. All of her self-consciousness had vanished again, and she wasn’t afraid to ask for exactly what she wanted.

After sensually sucking on his bottom lip, she released it with a soft  _ pop. _

“Touch me, Harry,” she commanded him.

He just chuckled, “I’m touching you as much as I can,” and leaned back in to kiss her. Silly boy.

“ _ No,  _ Harry.” She pressed a finger to his lips to stop him. He took one of his hands off her waist and guided it to her upper thigh. “ _ Touch _ me.”

The laugh wiped off his face and his face flushed as the knut dropped.

“Are….” he gulped, “are you sure?”

“ _ Pleeeease, Harry,” _ she whimpered, her command replaced by begging. There was no way he could deny her.

He kissed her again, and he started tracing his hand further up her thigh, leaving trails of fire on her skin where his fingertips touched. Her heart was pounding in her chest as his hand disappeared up the skirt of her dress, and she stiffened as his fingers brushed the soft, lacy fabric. Hesitantly, he traced a finger up her hot slit before cupping her over the fabric and starting to move his fingers in little circles.

“ _ Fuuuuck,” _ Ginny whined, instinctively bucking her hips forward, desperate for more pressure against his hand.”

“I’m afraid I — I don’t really know what I’m doing,” whispered Harry, still unsure despite the very visible tent in his trousers.

“Hmmm, don’t worry,” she breathed, smiling, “You’re going to get  _ lots _ of practice, if I have anything to say about it. Soon you’ll know this pussy like the back of your han— _ mmhh!” _

Her words ignited something in him, and he kissed her again fiercely, sucking her beautiful painted lips and biting her bottom one hungrily. She was shaking all over. She was desperate for more.

Taking her own hand, she reached down and pushed aside the thin undergarments she had borrowed from Fleur, and on her invitation he touched her hot, wet pussy for the first time, rubbing aggressive circles into her slick folds.

“ _ Fuck!” _ he exclaimed, breaking their kiss, “You’re so wet. I’ve barely done anything.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed into his ear, “You don’t need to. I’m always this wet around you, Harry. This is what you do to me. This is how badly I’m always gagging for it.”

Emboldened, he let out an animalistic grunt and plunged two straight fingers into her. He claimed her lips once again and delved his tongue into her mouth, aggressively penetrating her just as his fingers were penetrating her tight hot core.

Ginny had to break the kiss for air. She was breathing harder than she ever had before. But as impossibly, mind-searingly aroused as she was, he still wasn’t hitting  _ just _ the right spots, and she didn’t know how to correct him from his angle, she had only ever been fingered by herself before.

He gently grasped his wrist and, with extreme willpower, removed those long, strong fingers from herself.

“What? What’s wrong?” Harry said quickly.

“ _ Shhhh _ ,” Ginny soothed him, giving him a light kiss, “Nothing is wrong, just sit back against the wall.

He obeyed, scooting farther onto the bed until his back was against the wall. Ginny put one hand on each of his knees and gently pushed his legs apart. She leaned forward and kissed him, and while their lips smacked together she moved to remove her knickers completely. She was so turned on that once the enchanted garment was gone, her juices started running down her leg.

She turned around, sat down on the bed between Harry’s thighs, and leaned back luxuriously into her boyfriend’s chest.

“Come here,” she murmured, grasping his hand again and guiding it between her legs, “let me show you.” She gasped as his fingers re-entered her.

“Hook your fingers,” she told him, trying to keep her head clear enough to form clear instructions, “make like a ‘come here’ motion, that’s how I do it—oh _fuck_ _yesyesyes_ that’s the spot that’s so good. Now take your thumb, feel my clit there, just rub it _hssss_ not that hard it’s really sensitive just gently swirling _oh fuuuuuck yes baby that’s it_ ”

She continued to guide him, urging him with minor corrections, always telling him how great he already was, she could sense that, even in his own haze of arousal, he felt apologetic at not being more experienced. It turned her on even more that he didn’t get defensive or frustrated with his setbacks, because being intimate with her wasn’t about proving something to himself, demonstrating his prowess, he just legitimately wanted to make her happy.

“ _ Oooohhh,” _ she moaned louder and louder, rolling her head back to rest on his shoulder, “My cunt loves you so much baby, you two are going to be the best of friends.” She no longer needed to guide his hands, instead she reached her own arms back, grasping one of his shoulders with one hand and entwining the other into his messy hair, guiding his lips toward her neck, which he sucked and bit hungrily.

Ginny could feel her climax approaching. It wasn’t just what Harry was doing to the nerve endings between her legs. It was the fact that she felt so surrounded, so completely  _ enveloped _ by Harry —  _ her _ Harry. His arms wrapped around her, his chest cushioning her, letting her feel his heartbeat, his lips still tracing up and down her exposed neck, leaving more marks to claim her as his own, and the thing that was driving her crazy the most: his raging erection that he was shamelessly grinding into the small of her back.

The monster inside of Harry took further control, and he moved his free hand over her shoulder, slipped inside her dress and corset, and began cupping and kneading her right breast, sending her further into delirium.

“Oh yeah baby, you like those tits?” Ginny teased.

“ _ Hnnng _ fucking love your tits,” Harry growled into her ear, as he pinched and twisted her nipple, “Fucking perfect. Love your whole body. Your tits. Your hair. Your ass. And your beautiful, needy cunt.”

Harry joining in on her dirty talk pushed her closer to the point of no return. The wet sounds of his fingers hooking in and out of her and his thumb rubbing against her hood grew louder and louder and he fingered her harder, her wetness soaking his hand and pooling between her legs.

“Harry,  _ fuck, _ I’m gonna cum. You’re going to make me cum. Don’t stop. DON’T STO—MMPPH!”

Afraid someone would hear her moans, Harry moved his hand from fondling her tits and clamped it firmly over her mouth, and that act of dominance, him taking control of her body because she couldn’t control it herself, sent her over the edge.

She  _ screamed _ into his hand, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her whole body spasming as her orgasm crashed through her. She felt the pressure of his fingers increase as her tunnel constricted tightly around them. Waves and waves of pleasure drowned her brain in a thick fog, erasing her entire self beyond her hungry, cumming pussy. After what seemed like an eternity, her body relaxed and she collapsed completely against Harry, breathing deeply. He slowly removed his fingers from her, and she pouted her lip at him, already feeling empty and lonely. He raised his now-soaked hand, and after a moment, stuck the two fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of her juices, moaning at her taste. The sight sent a new wave of arousal through her and she eagerly kissed him, probing the inside of his mouth, detecting the taste of herself on his tongue. Then she curled up against him, thoroughly relaxed, and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, but she was brought back to reality by Harry’s breath hitching against her as they faintly heard her mother calling from the foot of the stairs.

“Ginny dear? Are you alright?”

Their eyes widened in panic, and they looked at each other, clamping their hands over their mouths to contain their laughter.

“I’m fine, mum!” Ginny called back, trying her best to sound sad and teary. She looked Harry seductively in the eyes, “I’m feeling  _ much _ better now!”

“Well, I’m keeping dinner out a bit longer,” her mother called again, “it’s waiting if you’re still hungry.”

“Thanks!” Ginny answered. She and Harry were still grinning at each other.

“Come on,” said Harry, “we better get back downstairs before someone gets curious.”

Ginny sighed. “Okay, but I’m not sure how well my legs work right now.”

She changed into a more comfortable pair of shoes and stumbled towards her door, her boyfriend’s arm supporting her.

“You know, it’s a shame,” said Harry as they made their way down the stairs, “those parsnips looked really good.”


	6. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaboom

_December 31st, 1996_

The following week was an experience of both bliss and torment. Harry and Ginny didn’t get a chance for more than the occasional heated snog when they were lucky enough to get an empty room to themselves in the crowded house. Ginny took several chances to scold him for not getting the memo over the summer, when they could have snuck off into the orchard any time they pleased.

Nonetheless, Ginny still couldn’t remember ever being happier. They couldn’t do everything she wanted, but they could still do all kinds of things she had spent years imagining. She could still lean against his shoulder on the couch, wrapped in his arms, or sit on his lap as he tried (and failed) to concentrate on a game of chess with Ron. The horrible world outside the Burrow might as well have not existed. Even the knowing smiles her mother would send them, being so openly happy they were together, eventually gave her a warm, contented feeling in her stomach instead of pangs of annoyance or embarrassment.

Another added benefit was that she was finally free to ogle Harry to her heart’s content. She felt like she owed it to that scared 11-year-old girl, who only stole sideways glances at him, to objectify her hot boyfriend as much as possible. She shamelessly kept asking him to lift things for her while doing her chores for no other reason than to see his lean muscles work. She watched him absentmindedly mess his hair until she gave into the urge to mess it herself, in between being content to just stare with lidded eyes at his face. There wasn’t a part of him that she couldn’t manage to eroticize, she even got turned on looking at his fingers, now that she knew what amazing things he could do with them.

She would let her imagination run wild as she scanned up and down his body. Though unfortunately, her imagination didn’t have much to work with, as she was becoming increasingly aware of the shortcomings of Harry’s wardrobe. Harry was finally no longer wearing baggy hang-me-downs, but he clearly still didn’t put much thought into showing himself off, and it would be even worse when they returned to school and the flowing wizards robes of their uniforms. Hermione had shown Ginny some muggle magazines once, and she had quickly reinforced her belief that all the muggle-haters were insane. Clearly the muggles were doing something right, since they were so much better at dressing hot guys than wizards. She was already making plans to take Harry to a muggle store and pick out some tight jeans or fitted shirts that showed off his flat stomach and built shoulders. It could be a birthday present to her next summer.

Actually, what she _really_ wanted was to parade her boytoy around in the kind of tank tops and short shorts she was wearing, but she admitted that her horny brain might be going too far there.

She spent the week getting herself so worked up and frustrated that by the time New Year’s Eve arrived, she was ready to do something positively mental.

They were lounging on the couch in the crowded sitting room, nearly everyone already downstairs as dinner was almost ready. Ginny grabbed a heavy wool throw blanket and threw it over the two of them.

“It’s cold…” Ginny shivered dramatically, snuggling up even closer to him.

“That probably has something to do with you being dressed for July,” Harry whispered coyly in her ear, “You’ll catch your death at this rate, I do wish you’d dress for the weather.”

“Hmmm…..no you don’t,” she cooed at him, and very suddenly lifted her hand up his thigh until she was palming the hard outline of his cock.

They both gasped, him in shock, her in wonder.

“Ginny,” he gently chided her, his face scarlet.

She looked up at him and batted her eyes innocently, “Yes?”

“You need to pump the brakes a little bit.” But he didn’t move to remove her hand. He nervously looked around, but nobody seemed to notice.

“What do you mean?” she asked, again in the most innocent possible voice.

“ _I don’t think this is the right time for you to get acquainted with this,_ ” he hissed at her, as she began moving her hand up and down the length of his cock through his trousers.

“I disagree,” Ginny said politely, “I’ve been thinking about your friend for quite a while, and it seems like he’s been thinking about me. I think it’s time we were properly introduced.”

His breath hitched as she pressed her palm harder into his cock and started rubbing up and down its length with small enough movements to not translate through the blanket. He didn’t know how to stop her without becoming even more obvious, but the way she was going, he was going to—

“Dinner is served!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice called from the kitchen. All of the Weasleys looked up from what they were doing and eagerly made their way out of the room. Ron was almost at the doorway when he did a double-take back at the couple.

“Mum might be treating you two getting together like the best thing ever, but make no mistake: that won’t save you if you blow off her dinner to snog on the sofa.”

As her brother disappeared into the kitchen, Ginny grinned at Harry slyly. “Saved by the bell, Potter.” She gave him one more fright as she threw the blanket off of Harry, prompting him to grab a pillow and put it over his lap, even though the room was now empty. Ginny left him sitting on the sofa and went to the kitchen, swaying her hips for him on her way.

After dinner, Ginny once again volunteered her and Harry to do the wash up. As she filled the sink with water and suds, however, he just stood back and admired the view of her from behind, trying in vain to decide if it was better than the view of her from the front, and for the hundredth time since Christmas he wondered how he could be so lucky.

At first, his joy had been mixed with insecurity, since his girlfriend was so many leagues more attractive than him. But it actually seemed that, _somehow_ , she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. He knew that Ginny had fancied him for a while, but it never occurred to him that she would _desire_ him this much. Even in his wildest fantasies, his mental version of Ginny wasn’t so forward in what she initiated with him, it was always her _letting_ him do things with her. He suspected she might be playing it up to make him feel good, because the idea of the hottest girl at Hogwarts lusting after Harry Potter, the scrawny kid with broken glasses, knobbly knees, and unruly hair just didn’t make sense.

A voice from a year earlier drifted up from his memories. _“Urgh, Chang, I don’t think much of your taste. . . . At least Diggory was good-looking!”_ Harry couldn’t explain why he cared what _Pansy Parkinson_ of all people thought, but it had been pecking at the back of his brain ever since.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Ginny’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “It’s really not fair for you to be able to ogle me while I can’t ogle you.”

He took a step closer to her but remained behind her. “Do you really?”

“Really what?”

“‘Ogle’ me. You really find me…. _physically_ attractive?”

Ginny stopped what she was doing, gently put down the dishes, slowly turned around to face him, and silently blinked at him. She _really_ wanted him to appreciate her best are-you-shitting-me look.

“Are….are you serious? Are you actually fucking serious right now? Did you really just ask that? _To me!?”_

Harry just shrugged sheepishly.

“Um….let’s see…..yes?” said Ginny, wondering if this was some weird test, “I really didn’t think I was unclear on that, why do you think I’m dating you?”

“Well I don’t know,” said Harry defensively, “my endearing personality? My intriguing air of mystery? My impressive feats on the Quidditch pitch? My tendency to rescue damsels in distress from monsters? That all seems more plausible to me than someone finding me legitimately good-looking.”

“Okay, let me make two things abundantly clear,” said Ginny. “Firstly,” she pulled him down and kissed him fiercely, then looked him dead in the eyes and said, “refer to me as a ‘damsel in distress’ again and I’ll hex your bollocks off.” She released him and turned back to the dishes. “Secondly, you give me way too much credit, Potter, I’m _far_ shallower than that. Rest assured, I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t all of those things and _also_ a hot piece of ass.”

Ginny continued washing a bowl, but slowed and stopped, frowning at Harry’s curious silence. Then, with a rush of panic, she realized what she had just said.

She froze and dropped the bowl, clattering loudly in the sink. She spun around in horror to face him, seeing his wide-eyed expression.

“I mean — I just — _SHIT!”_ she blushed furiously and looked down at her feet, her heart pounding and her hands white-knuckle gripping the counter behind her. “Look, please don’t freak out. Or feel the need to say anything. I was just joking around, I wasn’t thinking seriously about it, and if I was, I guess it’s not that surprising considering I’ve been in this relationship a few years longer than you have and — _MMPH!”_

Ginny squeaked into his mouth as he tilted her jaw back up to face him and kissed her with such intensity that she saw stars. It only took her a moment before she closed her eyes and responded eagerly, desperately gripping the back of his shirt with her wet hands. She opened her mouth and they swirled their tongues together as she moaned wantonly into his mouth, her mind empty except for complete bliss.

Harry broke the kiss, needing air, and for several seconds they stood there catching their breath. He cradled her head in both hands and looked deeply into her eyes.

“I love you too, Ginny.”

She bit her lip, then kissed him again so he wouldn’t see her cry.

At the twins’ request, no one went to bed at their usual hours, and as midnight drew closer they all bundled up and ventured outside to watch a display of the latest line of Weasley Wizard Wheezes fireworks. Harry stood in the snow, his arm wrapped around Ginny to give her warmth, and noticed the look she was giving him.

Ever since their confession while doing the dishes, Ginny had barely ever taken her eyes off of him. This wasn’t new, but she wasn’t smiling dreamily or playfully smirking at him, her eyes were piercing, looking at him with burning purpose, like she was putting together a battle plan. It made Harry a little uncomfortable, but since that spirited intensity is exactly what made him fall in love with her in the first place, it was also extremely intriguing.

The first explosion brought his attention back to the sky and he watched the display of magically twisting and spinning sparks. While he was gasping and laughing at a burst of flame that took the shape of an angry dragon, he felt Ginny slip away from him, removing her arms from around his waist. He looked down to see his girlfriend giving him that same look, not even noticing the fireworks, while tying her hair back in a tight ponytail.

“Is something wrong, Ginny?”

She leaned close. “Tell me again,” she said, in a voice that left no option but to comply.

Harry smiled. He reached up a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, and leaned in close to whisper into it, “I love you, Ginny Weasley.”

She took in a deep breath, then took his hand in a crushing grip and started pulling him back toward the house. They were standing further back than anyone, so nobody noticed as they disappeared back inside, Harry meekly protesting that it would be rude to leave, but he was glad she didn’t listen to him.

Once they had reached the sitting room, Harry tried to pull her close to kiss her, but Ginny kept going, leading him up to her bedroom. His heart pounded with the memory of their last time alone there, and his cock twitched at the thought of getting his fingers inside her again.

Once inside, she closed and locked the door and pinned him against it, kissing him even more desperately, wasting no time in invading his mouth with her tongue. He moaned helplessly into her mouth, completely in her control, but she didn’t give him much time to enjoy it. She quickly moved to kissing his jaw, then down his neck, sucking and biting aggressively, then continued downward, kissing his shoulders, then his chest, then his stomach, then before Harry knew was was happening

Ginny was on her knees.

She paused for a moment, slowly running her hands up and down his muscular thighs and abs, reaching around to squeeze his spectacular ass. She wanted to remember this moment, the sight of him and the sounds he was making as her famously strong-willed boyfriend was complete putty in her hands. 

They could still hear the explosions and gasps and cheers from outside. The flashes through her bedroom window illuminated Ginny’s face below Harry, showing him a complete lack of hesitation and causing an awkward “are you sure?” to die in his throat. Ginny closed her eyes, leaned forward, and gently nuzzled the bulge in his trousers like a cat. Then, she deftly moved her fingers to undo his jeans, pulling them down until exposing his highly tented boxers. Then, finally, she pulled his waistband down to reveal her prize.

She gasped and bit her lip. She could practically feel the heat coming off of his cock, warming her face already. She could already see it throbbing with his heartbeat in anticipation for her. The size of it meant she might not be able to take it as completely as she wanted, but she wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

She immediately grasped his cock with both hands like a drowning woman desperately clinging to a lifeline, causing him to nearly cum on the spot. His cock was so hard that it was actually aching.

“So glad to finally meet you,” Ginny whispered, and placed a single loving kiss to the very tip of his cock. It was already dripping pre-cum, and she licked her lips, savoring the new taste that she instantly fell in love with. She moved to the base of his cock drew one long, wet lick along his frenulum back up to his head. Then, she _finally_ opened her mouth, but took just the tip in, swirling her tongue around it playfully.

Harry was nearly driven to tears by her teasing. “Ginny…” he gasped desperately, “Ginny please….”

She let his tip out of her mouth with a light _pop._ “Please what, Harry?” she asked innocently.

“ _Please_ suck my cock,” he begged her.

“Mmmm, anything for you, love.”

She took him into his mouth and began to suck him in earnest, and Harry had to summon all his willpower not to collapse to the ground. He had thought Ginny’s lips were heavenly when he was just kissing them, but that was nothing compared to how they felt tightly puckered around his cock.

Harry was clueless to all thoughts or senses besides the feeling of Ginny’s hot wet mouth bobbing back and forth along the upper part of his shaft, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. She hummed in pleasure around him, and the vibrations travelled up his length, into his aching balls and through his entire body.

Feeling emboldened and aroused to the point of insanity, Ginny opened up her throat and attempted to take more of him in. She got three-quarters of the way to his crotch before she gagged hard against him and retreated.

“Shit, are you okay?” said Harry instantly, “We can stop—”

“Harry,” she scolded him huskily, “I can’t get better if I don’t practice. Now shut up unless it’s to tell me how much you love me. Or how much of a dirty slut I am. Either one.” But she didn’t attempt to deepthroat him again, and returned to sucking hard as she bobbed back and forth on his shaft.

Harry’s head rolled back as he re-entered oblivion. “Love you, Gin,” he gasped, “love you so fucking much.”

But as she continued to pleasure him, he got more frustrated. Every time he felt his tension building toward release, she would stop her movements and return to kissing and teasing his cockhead, or licking the underside of his cock. They all felt amazing in their own ways, but he felt like if he didn’t cum soon, his balls were going to explode. 

“Ginny please — just — suck on the shaft,” he begged her between gasps, “that other stuff feels nice, but it’s pretty simple to make me cu — _uuuuuuum!”_

Ginny took him from her mouth, but continued to stroke his now-glistening cock with her hand. When Harry looked down at her, he saw defiance in her eyes.

“Maybe I don’t _want_ you to cum yet,” she said petulantly, “This cock is the best toy I’ve ever gotten for Christmas, maybe I want to play with it a bit more.”

Harry’s patience broke. He let out a loud, primarily growl and reached down, grabbed her head by the ponytail, and when her mouth opened in a gasp, he shoved his cock back into it. He held her head in place as he thrust his hips back and forth, fucking her mouth as if it were her pussy, desperately chasing his orgasm.

It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to Ginny. Something had awoken in her boyfriend. She was entirely helpless as Harry lost control, taken over by something wild and animalistic. He said no words, made no noises except grunts as he recklessly used her body for his own pleasure. Her eyes rolled back and she groaned like a zombie around his cock, and moved her hands to her own jeans, desperately undoing them and plunging her fingers into her dripping wet cunt as he violated her.

Driven even further mad by her arousal, he started speaking to her like he did on Christmas.

“Oh yeah, look how desperate you are, baby. You evil tease, pretending you don’t want my cum. Is your pussy wet? Is it wet for me? Is that where you really want this co — _oooock_!”

His breathing became harder and faster, and Ginny could tell his climax was approaching.

She quickly took back control, removing his hands from her hair. She gathered up as much of her juices as she could and smeared it all over his length, squeezing him tightly and furiously jerking him off. Harry could feel the difference between it and her saliva and it was even more heavenly.

Harry was dimly aware of the explosions outside increasing their pace and the spectators counting down.

“ _TEN!....NINE!...._ ”

“That’s for you, Harry,” she said fiercely as she continued to stroke even more of her wetness onto his cock, “this pussy is ready for your cock, it’s where it belongs. Now give me what’s mine and _cum!”_

She took his cockhead into her mouth and sucked hard as she continued to stroke him furiously. 

“ _FIVE!...FOUR!....”_

Her words pushed him over the edge. He felt his balls tighten as he passed the point of no return.

“ _TWO!....ONE!....HAPPY NEW YEAR!_ ”

“ _GINNY!”_ he roared.

Harry heard the rapid explosions of the firework finale outside as he exploded into Ginny’s mouth, more fireworks going off in his head and in front of his eyes. Every muscle in his body tensed as he shot rope after rope of hot cum into her, filling up her mouth.

She waited patiently as his spasms subsided, before removing her mouth from his tip and opening it up to show him the white liquid pooled on her tongue, before she purposefully closed her mouth and swallowed greedily, closing her eyes and sighing.

“Delicious….” she moaned.

Harry’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor, and she curled up next to him and purred contentedly.

“You….I…...holy shit…..wow….” 

He wanted to tell her how amazing she was and how much he loved her. Fuck, at the moment he felt like she deserved to have poetry written about her, but his mind was so mush that he couldn’t form complete sentences. The only coherent thought that he could form in his head was that at this rate, 1997 was going to be the best year of his life.


	7. Last Night, First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the holidays, but start of something else

_January 3rd, 1997_

For the remainder of their Christmas holidays, Ginny didn't get a chance to do more with Harry than occasionally snogging. But she was certain that even if they did get a chance for him to use his fingers on her again, it wouldn't be enough. She wasn't going to be satisfied until he was inside of her.

She realized that she had already done more with Harry after _one day_ of dating him than she had ever done with a boy, but it didn't matter. With her previous boyfriends, she felt the need to make them earn every touch and snog. Not only was it what she felt she was "supposed" to do as a self-respecting woman, it made her feel powerful over these simple, desperate cavemen boys to resist their seductions, but she had already accepted that when it came to Harry, she wasn't self-respecting at all. She was a complete slut.

The fact that Harry _wasn't_ constantly pushing her to do more was exactly what turned her on so much. Now, it was _her_ seducing _him_ that made her feel powerful, as she watched his resistance crumble at the sight of her willing body. But for all the wonderful snogging and groping, it still wasn't enough.

She wanted _more_ of him.

She wanted _all_ of him.

And she wanted it to happen before they left for school. It wasn't because she was simply so horny that she couldn't wait another day (well okay, it wasn't _just_ because of that), she didn't want their first time to be after she crept up to his dormitory late at night, or they snuck off to an abandoned classroom under the cloak, or frantically between classes in a broom cupboard. To be clear, she absolutely _did_ plan on doing all those things with him, but she wanted their first time to be special, with no time limit or need to be on the lookout for being caught. But she didn't know how to do that in this crowded house where they were both sharing rooms.

Now, it was the day before they were to return to Hogwarts, and she was so randy that even holding her boyfriend's hand was distracting her as they stood in the kitchen to say goodbye to Lupin.

"I really can't take any more, Molly," Lupin said warmly as she tried to load even more home cooked leftovers into his arms, "I probably won't get a chance to eat it anyway, I'm only going back to my flat for a bit before I'm back on mission."

"Just be careful," said Harry, worried about what Lupin had said about the werewolves siding with Voldemort. Ginny felt his hand subconsciously squeeze hers, and she squeezed it back to comfort him.

"'Be careful?'" Lupin repeated incredulously, "And here I thought you were James' son!" Harry laughed.

He told a final round of goodbyes, then gathered his bag and exited the house. Harry watched him from the window as he walked beyond the wards and Disapparated.

As the family started dispersing from the kitchen, Ginny saw Fleur and Bill making even more intense sex eyes at each other than usual until Mrs. Weasley called for him to help her with something upstairs.

"Seriously?" Ginny said to her as the blonde stared at Bill's arse as he walked away, "How are Harry and I the ones who keep getting the mickey taken out of us when you two are like _that?"_

"So sorry," said Fleur, not sounding sorry at all, "I am just very excited, now zat Remus iz gone."

"And why is that a good thing?" Harry asked harshly, turning away from the window, ready to defend Lupin from whatever Fleur was about to say.

"Oh _non,_ nozzing like zat!" said Fleur, "Remus ees wonderful, but 'ee made zis 'ouse razzer crowded, _non?_ Now, Bill can take 'is and Charlie's old room back for 'imself," she lowered her voice and leaned towards Ginny and Harry, smiling mischievously, "Which means I can spend some quality time wiz my fiancé tonight. I zot Molly's more... _traditional_ requirements for sleeping arrangements would drive me mad." She winked at them, gave them a "shush" gesture and left the room.

Harry's heart was in his throat. He stole a sideways glance at his girlfriend, and her face was just as blushed as he felt, and he could tell the same thought had occurred to both of them: if Fleur snuck up to Bill's room that night, that would leave Ginny in her room.

All alone.

Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to beg Ginny to let him join her in bed that night or do everything possible to avoid talking about the subject all together.

"So, er…." he said conversationally, "Have you, er, packed yet?"

She just smiled at how pathetically transparent he was and shook her head. She stepped closer to him and started tracing her fingers over his chest.

"Oh, I can think of one more thing that's going to get _packed_ tonight."

Harry gulped. "Look, Ginny…."

"I'm ready, Harry," she said, not joking anymore and showing him she was serious about this, "I understand if you're not, I'm willing to wait for you, but I want this."

"No, I am!" he said quickly, shocking himself. "I mean….it's just….we've been together such a short time, Gin, and we've already done so much, don't you think we're moving really fast?"

"Yes. Yes we are," she said matter-of-factly. Then, she reached out and firmly grasped his cock through his trousers, and he stifled a moan.

She pulled him by the cock closer to her and whispered up into his ear, "Come and find me after you're sure Ron's asleep."

Then she spun around, waving her sweet-smelling hair in his face as she exited the room.

* * *

Harry lay awake that night, listening with a mixture of excitement and dread at Ron's breathing becoming deeper. For as long as Harry could convince himself that Ron might still be awake, he wouldn't have to make a decision. And right now he couldn't trust himself to make the right decision.

It was clear what the "right" decision was: to just go to sleep himself and tell Ginny tomorrow that going down to her would be crossing a major line. They had already done more than he ever thought they would do in such a short time, all while sneaking around behind the backs of people they both cared about.

Although….

Her parents had never specifically told him _not_ to go down to Ginny's room in the middle of the night and shag her brains out….

_That's because they didn't feel like they needed to, because they implicitly trust you, you randy, selfish git. And you're thinking about repaying that trust by taking advantage of their daughter._

No. No matter how much they both might want it, it simply wasn't the right time or place. Harry was going to stay the night here, and Ginny would stay down there.

….just a few floors below…..all alone…..waiting for him….

….But it would be cruel to just stand her up, right? She was _assuming_ he would go to her, if he didn't show up she would stay awake all night, and likely be pissed at him the next morning. So, to be considerate, he would have to go down to her room, just to tell her to go to sleep and come back up to Ron's room again. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Right.

Quietly as he could, Harry removed himself from his camp bed, tiptoed out of the room, and made his way down the stairs to Ginny's landing. He could see the orange glow from her lamp through the crack at the bottom of her door.

Taking in a deep breath, he opened the door and walked in.

Ginny was lounging on her bed, her fiery red hair splayed all over her pillow, and wearing nothing but a baggy t-shirt and a pair of knickers. But what almost made Harry pass out was her lips. She was wearing that same impossibly red and inviting lipstick she had worn at Christmas. When she saw him, she arched her back, bit her lip, and smiled mischievously.

_Fuck._

"It's about time," she whispered, "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," she pouted. "Close the door."

 _I'm not staying,_ he meant to say, but instead he silently did as she said.

She got up from her bed and stalked toward him like a lioness approaching her prey. She took his hands and started leading him back to her bed, eyeing him hungrily up and down and licking her luscious lips. Harry knew that if she kissed him it would be all over.

" _Ginny,"_ he tried to say firmly, but his voice shook, "we can't do this."

She quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled. "Oh no? I can't think of a single reason why not." She pulled him close and tilted her face up to meet his…

" _I_ can," she told her, grasping her by the shoulders, "I can think of _lots_ of reasons. I know we've done a lot already, but if we do this, if we….make love, here—"

Ginny burst out laughing and smiled at him patronizingly, "'Make love?' Harry, is that what you thought we were doing here?"

Harry's jaw dropped. He was dumbstruck. But he kept running over in his head her words from earlier and how she had acted when he entered the room….what else could she _possibly_ have meant?

"Wha — _no!_ " he stammered wildly, trying to play it off, "No, of course not! I just mean — that's why I said —"

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. She then slid it down and placed both her hands on his chest, where her eyes were looking. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

"Harry….I love you. You make me unbelievably happy. This brief time with you has been like a dream….but it's also been a nightmare. I _thought_ that I had wanted you already. I _thought_ that I was pathetically desperate for you. But now I know, the uncertainty of whether you wanted me….that last part of that scared little girl inside of me….she was the only thing keeping me from becoming a _complete_ slut for you."

Harry gulped hard. His face felt white hot. His erection was throbbing almost painfully.

"Now she's gone," Ginny continued, "and knowing that I finally _have_ you….knowing that you actually want me as much as I want you — _ooh!"_ she faltered and gasped as she brought his hands to cup her breasts through her shirt, while he let out a moan. "Now I can't get these thoughts out of my head, of all the unspeakable things I want to do to you. And for the first time, I'm not ashamed, I'm _proud_ that our bodies want each other so badly." She wrapped her hands around his neck and finally met his gaze again, and Harry was almost frightened of the intensity he saw there, "So no, silly boy, I didn't bring you here to make love to you. I brought you here to _fuck_ you."

She attacked his lips with hers, pressing every bit of their sweetness to him, and his mind entered oblivion. They continued kissing passionately as she led him the remaining few steps over to her bed and threw him down onto it. With their searing kiss broken, his brain started working again just enough to start babbling a string of feeble protests.

"Ginny wait, let's just _think_ about this for a second. I mean, one, we've barely been together for more than a week. We've never even gone on a real _date_ yet. Two, your family trusts me, they've welcomed me into their home and I can't betray that trust, they're the only family I've ever had and I can't lose that. Three, it's not like there's a rush because we're going back to school and will be together there." He had to stop when he ran out of breath.

Ginny giggled. "Mmmm, yes, Mr. Potter, those are _very_ well thought out points," she said mock-seriously as she crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. "However, I'd like to make some counter-arguments." She resumed kissing him heatedly, and he let a moan escape him into her mouth.

"Point number one," she said, and suddenly grabbed his hand and shoved it down her panties, " _I'm wet._ "

Shit, that _was_ a good point, Harry had to admit. He instinctively started swirling his fingers over her folds, earning whimpers of pleasure from the redhead straddling him. Then, she sat up, giving him a fuller view of her beauty. She took both his hands and pressed them firmly against her breasts, encouraging him to cup them and caress them and roll her pointed nipples through her t-shirt.

"Point number two: titties," she said matter-of-factly. Harry didn't know how to counter her master debating skills.

She started rocking her hips back and forth, pressing the crotch of her panties, already soaked through, up and down the tented outline of his hard cock. Harry felt like he was about to cum just from the friction. "Point number three: _cock_ ," she breathed.

Ginny turning her ministrations to his cock made him think of one last excuse.

"Ginny," he brought his hands to her hips and gripped them firmly. He intended to stop her, but instead his hands started guiding and encouraging her movements. "Ginny, we _have_ to stop. What about protection? We can't do magic—"

"Silly boy, I already did the contraceptive charm long before you came in. The Ministry traces _where_ magic is done, not _who_ does it, so we pure-blood kids can do all the magic we want as long as our parents don't catch us."

In a flash, Harry remembered the multiple times his life was almost ruined by necessary or accidental instances of underage magic. "That's not fair…." he mumbled under his breath.

"Aww, poor Harry," Ginny cooed at him. "Don't worry. I'll make it…. _up to you,"_ and she reached down and tightly squeezed his member, causing him to hiss sharply and close his eyes.

"I also put up a Silencing Charm around this room," she told him, the fire in her eyes reaching new intensity, "Because I intend to _scream_ tonight. And I intend to make _you_ scream."

She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and started to raise it over her head, showing him her freckled toned abs. With one last act of desperation, he shot out his hands and grabbed her by the wrists to stop her.

"Ginny, _STOP!_ I'm serious."

The tone of his voice finally got through to her and she froze. After a moment, she relaxed and sighed with disappointment. "Oh, alright then." She laid on her back next to him.

Harry didn't make a move to get up. He honestly hadn't expected her to heed him, and found himself more than a little disappointed that she did.

Ginny looked sideways at him. The mounds of her breasts stood out against the fabric of her shirt, and her hair was splayed all over the pillow underneath them.

"Well, you better get going," she said expectantly. "That would be the _noble_ thing to do, Potter. I know when I'm beat," she said dejectedly, and shrugged, "After all, the great Harry Potter can resist the Imperius Curse, so what chance does little old me have?" With the tone of her voice and the way she was pouting her lip, Harry was certain that the Imperius Curse now seemed like a friendly suggestion.

"I guess I'll just have to take care of things myself," Ginny said sadly, and she began moving the dainty fingers of her right hand down her torso until they disappeared beneath her panties. Harry clenched his eyes shut as her fingers began quickly moving underneath the lace as she furiously fingered herself, but that didn't help him because he could still _hear_ the wet sounds coming from between her legs and the whimpers escaping from her lips, and it turned him on even more. Then, she shifted closer to him on the bed and he felt her breath caressing his ear.

"Always so noble," she whispered mockingly. "Always the selfless hero. Don't you ever get tired of it, Harry? Don't you ever want to just let go….just lose control….just stop _thinking_ for once in your life and take what's yours. You _really_ think you're putting up a good act, you arrogant bastard? You think you're so much more evolved than a typical randy boy? You think I don't _know_ how badly you want my bod— _mmph!"_

She was cut off by Harry's searing kiss as he attacked her like a feral animal. In a flash, she was on her back, he was on top of her and his tongue was exploring her mouth, dancing with hers. She moaned in approval as he released her lips and started kissing and biting down her jaw and neck. She was completely enveloped by him, his weight on top of her pressing her down into the mattress, and the way his hands were roaming over every inch of her body like he owned it, she wasn't sure she could get him to stop even if she wanted to. She was completely at his mercy and she was turned on beyond belief.

He grabbed the hem of her shirt and tried to yank it upward, but it caught underneath their combined weights. After just an instant, Harry let out a loud grunt in frustration and he grabbed her collar with both hands, and his muscles ripples as he tore her shirt completely in half, ripping her open like a predator digging into his prey, and exposing her freckled chest to him for the first time.

" _Harry!"_ she cried in surprise, but any concern she had for her shirt died when she saw Harry, sitting back, his jaw dropped, and taking her all in. Ginny had always been self-conscious about her breasts, but the way Harry was looking at her like she was the sexiest thing in the world rid her mind of that and filled her with a new wave of lust, which turned into annoyance at the fact that the bastard had _stopped_ to look at her.

" _Fuck,_ Gin," he said breathlessly, "You're so fucking sexy…."

"That's nice, Harry," she said scathingly, "but why the sweet _fuck_ are you still wearing clothes, you idiot?"

Smiling, he frantically grabbed his own shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his chiseled chest to her, his subtle abs, and the line of dark hair that trailed down from his stomach and disappeared into his pants, teasing her about where it led.

Once his shirt was off, he couldn't contain himself anymore and he returned to fiercely kissing her, smacking their lips together, and earning a new batch of moans as he ground his clothed crotch into her own.

The "clothed" part was what angered Ginny as he started trailing his kisses down her again, marking her neck and chest.

" _Harry,"_ she whined, "You're not finished yet— _ooh!"_

Her scolding ceased as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, giving ministrations to the other one with his hand.

"Oh yes, Harry!" she cried out, twisting her fingers into his hair, "suck those titties, baby. I know how much you love them. Always gaping at my rack right in front of my _family,_ you naughty boy."

Harry chuckled around her nipple as he sucked it into his mouth hard and swirled his tongue around it. Ginny wrapped her legs around his torso and pulled him into her desperately. She felt like if she didn't get something inside her cunt soon she would go mad.

"Okay Potter, that's enough of the scenic route, just fuck me already," she scolded him, "You need — _hsss_ ," she hissed through her teeth as he playfully nipped on her enflamed nipple and released it with a small _pop._ She looked down at him and he was smiling confidently at her. The cocky bastard.

"Not yet," he cooed at her," I haven't tasted all of you yet." And he moved on from her tits and started kissing his way down her body, getting closer to the hot wet spot between her legs.

"Harry, love, that's sweet, but you really don't have to _ooooohhhhhh,_ " Her protest turned into a blissful moan and any thought of stopping him from doing what he was doing fled her mind as he placed a loving, worshipful kiss on her pussy through her knickers.

"Dear gods, Gin, I can already taste you through them, you're so wet. And Merlin, the _smell_ of you. He buried his nostrils hard and inhaled as deeply as he could, becoming drunk off her scent, and she squealed as the tip of his nose pressed firmly right on her clit. "I know _this_ is what I'll be smelling in that love potion now," he told her.

She lifted her hips to allow him to pull down her panties and flick them off of her, and when he returned his face to her core she laid back and surrendered herself to him.

Sticking his tongue out, he traced one long, firm lick all the way from the bottom of her folds to her clit, before focusing on the bundle of nerves, closing his mouth around it and quickly flicking his tongue back and forth. She jolted at the sudden sensation, bucking her hips into his face, and pulled on his hair so hard he thought he might go bald.

Ginny was babbling incoherently, " Oh yes yes yes baby eat that fucking pussy it's yours you own it don't stop don't ever stop I love your tongue so fucking much." He hummed in gratitude for her praise, the vibrations sending new chills through her body. She was the single most delicious thing Harry had ever tasted, and he was desperate for more of it. He moved down and full-on plunged his tongue into her pussy, stretching as far as he could into her and lapping to hit every bit of her walls.

"YES YES YES HARRY FUCK MY PUSSY WITH YOUR TONGUE I'M GETTING CLOSE"

With this new cue, he replaced his tongue with two fingers, hooking them into her and stimulating that sensitive spot he knew from Christmas.

With his mouth temporarily freed, he begged her, "Cum for me, love, cum on my face, I want it." He then returned his lapping tongue to her clit, furiously flicking it back and forth.

" _HARRYYYY!"_ the sound of her scream was muffled for him as Ginny clamped her muscular thighs on either side of his head, covering his ears and feeling like she would crush his skull. Her whole body spasmed as her orgasm crashed through her, her hips bucking wildly as she mindlessly rutted against his face. Wave after wave of pleasure tore through her until she collapsed backward onto her pillow, her mind a foggy, useless mess.

But even then, he didn't stop. He had fallen completely in love with her pussy, and he kept devouring it, barely even noticing her hissing winces at how sensitive her clit now was in the afterglow of her orgasm.

"Harry…." she whispered meekly as she half-heartedly tried to squirm away from his assaulting tongue, but she quickly gave up as her pleasure started building again. Ginny had never considered that her boyfriend going down on her could be a submissive act for her, but there was no doubt who was in control at the moment. Harry had looped his muscular arms around her legs so her thighs rested in the crook of his elbows, and he had her in an iron grip and he pressed her pelvis into his face as he gobbled up every drop of juices she was giving him. He snaked his palms up her trembling stomach and reached her chest, softly kneading her tits as his tongue didn't miss a beat while pleasuring her. The assault of multiple points of pleasure was too much for Ginny, and she passively came on his face a second time, barely having the energy to spasm or arch her back.

Finally showing mercy on her, Harry gave her pussy one more loving kiss before climbing back to face her. She cupped his face and kissed him deeply, licking his lips and sucking on his tongue, savoring the taste of herself on his mouth.

After what seemed like a blissful eternity of just laying on top of her kissing, Ginny seemed to have recovered, and Harry's cock was raging with impatience. Continuing to kiss her, Harry started clumsily removing his pyjama pants and boxers, until they were both completely naked on her bed. Ginny broke their kiss to gaze in awe at his engorged cock. She quivered with anticipation, and Harry was ready to give what she wanted.

He positioned himself above her and placed the tip of his cock at her wet, inviting entrance. "Ready?" he asked her. She tore her eyes away from his throbbing cock and looked him in the eyes, and he saw steel resolve in them.

"No."

"Wh — _WHAT!?"_

He was so confused and alarmed he didn't protest when she grabbed him, flipped him onto his back and started kissing him again.

"But — I thought you wanted —"

"Oh I do, Harry. But if you fuck me now, you're going to make me cum again. And I'm not letting you run up the score on me, Potter." She started moving her kisses down his chest and stomach.

Relieved, Harry started chuckling. "Always so competitive, aren't you?" he said playfully, "That's really going to get you into trouble one day, you kno — _FUCK!"_

He screamed in a very un-manly, high-pitched voice as, in one motion, Ginny opened her mouth and swallowed his entire cock to the hilt, pressing her nose into his pubic hairs. His entire length being sheathed in hot wetness short-circuited his brain, and he actually felt her throat muscles throbbing in time with him.

Even with her throat bulging from the thick cock she had taken, Ginny still smiled smugly into her lover's hairs. That was exactly the reaction from him she had been practicing for. Before he could get too used to it, she removed her head from him and started breathing again.

" _Language,_ love," Ginny scolded him as she smiled up at his face innocently and started stroking his now-wet cock.

"Sorry…." was all Harry could muster. At that moment he would obey anything she said.

"Hmmm," she hummed thoughtfully, pursing and rubbing her red painted lips, "I think I'm wearing too much makeup. This lipstick doesn't rub off, as I'm sure you've noticed after how much you've snogged me, I need a special ingredient."

"Okay? What is it?" he wasn't sure why she was bringing this up, her makeup looked perfect.

"Oh, it's something you can give me, actually," Ginny said playfully. Then, she stuck out her tongue and placed a long, wet lick on the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip. As he groaned, Ginny looked at his cock and smiled with satisfaction at the drops of precum already there.

Harry watched as she puckered her lips and pressed his tip to them, treating his cock like a tube of lipstick as she applied his pre-cum to her lips. She pursed them and then pressed a firm kiss to his abdomen, and with the magic lifted it left a perfect blood red kiss mark on his skin. She continued kissing him all over his crotch, up and down his cock, even his balls until his whole lower body was covered with her marks claiming him.

"You're making a mess, love," he smiled down at her, running his fingers through her hair.

"Mmm, I'm just getting started." And she took his rod back into her mouth, sucking her lips tight around him and bobbing her head up and down until she had smeared her ruby lipstick all over his shaft.

" _Fuck_ Gin, you're a natural at that."

Encouraged by him, she started building up a rhythm, swallowing him to the hilt before pulling back again to his head, timing her breathing. Harry threw his head back and started moaning incoherently, bucking his hips up to meet her movements. The sensations attacking every nerve in his cock overwhelmed him and he started spewing words at her that would have horrified him an hour ago.

"Oh yeah baby, you've been practicing that haven't you, poor girl you've literally been gagging for it, such a slut for my cock, you're so fucking good."

The stream of demeaning filth coming from her sweet boyfriend was too much for Ginny, her hand seemed to move of its own accord between her legs and she started aggressively fingering her cunt and rubbing her clit in time with her sucking.

To Ginny's delight, Harry's breathing quickened and she could tell he wasn't going to last long, which was exactly what she wanted. She had no interest in teasing him or edging him like she did at New Year's, she wanted to teach him a lesson and put him in his place. She was going to make him cum in record time and there was nothing he could do about it.

" _Fuck_ Gin, Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCKFUCKFUCK!"

He grabbed her by the back of the head with both hands, shoved her down on his cock hard, and came straight down her throat. The feeling of his thick cock spasming as he shot rope after rope of hot cum into her — _feeding_ her — pushed Ginny over the edge as she came hard, soaking her own hands.

She kept him in her mouth even as his spasms slowed and died, taking in a deep breath when he shrank enough to allow her to breath again. She sucked on his cock once more, making him wince from its new sensitivity, before she let him flop out of her mouth and climbed back up to meet him. She gave a smug smile when she saw him staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes. She curled up against his side, pressing her naked body against his and began kissing his neck.

"Well — I hope — that teaches you — to be arrogant," she scolded him between kisses, "Don't act so cocky when you're not the only one here with mental oral skills."

Then, to her annoyance, he chuckled, "What happened to not letting me run up the score, though?"

" _Hey!"_ she poked him in the chest, "I made _myself_ cum that time. You don't get credit for that, Potter."

"Oh yes, I'm sure the fact that you were blowing my cock had nothing to do with it."

"Exactly. Pure coincidence."

They lapsed into a contented silence, completely at peace entwined in each other, her rubbing his chest and him stroking and smelling her fiery locks.

It struck Ginny how unbelievable it was that she was _here._ Actually _with_ him. She thought back on all the people that had teased her for her childish crush, the ridiculous jealousy she had felt toward Cho Chang, Parvati, and even Luna, and she started deliriously laughing.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, and she could hear the smile he was wearing.

"Oh, nothing." Then after a moment, she added, "Was just thinking about all the girls that would kill to be where I am right now."

Harry rolled his eyes and moved a hand to mess the back of his hair. "Oh come on, all that's only because of the 'Chosen One' nonsense."

 _Well, looks like we're doing this AGAIN,_ thought Ginny. She shifted so that she was on top of him, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

" _Seriously?_ " she asked, "How are you _still_ this fucking dumb?"

"I'm not dumb!" he said defensively, "It would be _dumb_ to buy my own hype, wouldn't it? All of the girl stuff only started when I was proven right about Voldemort being back and the 'Chosen One' rumours started going around. Hermione said —"

" _Harry,"_ she cut him off, trying to keep her patience, "I think we can agree that _I_ am the expert on what makes you hot, not Hermione. We both know by now that Hermione has terrible taste in men." Harry suppressed a laugh.

"So, first of all," she continued, "Yes, love, I'm sure all the private, covert lessons from Dumbledore are just something he does with tons of students, because the 'Chosen One' rumour is just 'nonsense.' Don't think that I'm stupid, Harry." He looked away from her.

"Second of all, this did _not_ only start after our trip to the Ministry, _you_ were just too angry at the world and angsting about Cho bloody Chang to notice. The entire female population of the sodding school was talking about who you would ask to the Yule Ball, girls have been wanting to snog you since forever."

"But it's the same thing. Those girls don't actually fancy _me,_ they fancy The Boy Who Lived. They don't _know_ me. If they actually got to know me, they'd realize I was just a normal bloke who got a protection spell from his mother, that there's nothing exceptional about me, and they'd get over it"

Ginny snorted and gestured up and down at their naked bodies, "Um, I'm a former fame-stricken fangirl who got to know you as a person, does it look like that made _me_ 'get over it?'"

"Well…."

"And did I miss the other 'normal blokes' who save girls from monsters, or fly circles around dragons, or lead underground resistance cells? Is that all stuff you got from your mother too?"

"Well when you put it like _that—"_

"That's _not_ why people are drawn to you, Harry," Ginny said resolutely, not joking anymore, "You're kind. And brave. You….have _more_ love to give than anyone I've ever met. You move heaven and earth to help the people you care about, and to fight for the things you believe in. And, not quite as dramatically, you're just a big laugh, and have a wicked smart mouth. A mouth I _now_ know can eat pussy like a master. And when all that fails, you're just _devastatingly_ beautiful to look at." She felt his cock twitch against her belly.

Harry smiled down at her. "You just described yourself, Gin."

"No, I don't think I could eat pussy as good as you—"

"You _know_ what I mean."

"Yes, I do," she smiled sweetly back, "thank you."

She felt his cock twitch again. She lifted herself up and looked down. Evidently all this talk of pussy was getting him ready again. And she wasn't going to waste another round blowing him. She looked up back into his eyes and they both knew.

She pushed herself up on her knees and straddled his thighs, stroking him until he was rock hard again. She pressed his length flat against her abdomen, looking with excitement at how far he was going to reach into her.

"And _that,_ you sexy bastard, is why so many girls wish they were me right now."

She lifted herself up and positioned the head of his cock, pressed against her glistening entrance.

"They all want you," she breathed, steeling herself, "but you're — _mine."_

They both moaned as she lowered herself onto him, and he finally — _finally_ — entered her, for the first of what they knew would be _thousands_ of times. Ginny threw her head back in complete bliss. She felt herself stretch around him, her lips gripping him, and she felt _complete._ Harry was _in_ her like nothing had ever been before, giving her something she never knew she was missing. Her clit pressed against his pelvis just as the tip of his cock bottomed out against her cervix. He was the _perfect_ size and shape for her. She knew that from now on, every moment he wasn't in her she would feel empty and lonely.

Harry's mind broke as he felt his shaft enter her wet heat, her inner walls caressing and molding around him, lighting every nerve of his length on fire. As he looked down in awe at the point where their bodies were joined, he saw now how ridiculous he was being an hour ago, about how they had been together for a short time. He had been waiting his whole life for this.

For a moment, they just sat there, relishing in the sensation of their connection and trying not to come apart instantly. Everything was perfect. The dark times happening outside didn't exist. As long as this cock was in this pussy, the world was a wonderful place.

Then, of course, Harry _still_ felt the need to be a bloody gentleman.

"Are you okay?" he breathed, "I mean, I heard that it can hurt the first time—"

"You silly boy," Ginny laughed at him, smiling down at the man she loved, "I've been riding a broom every night of my life since I was six, you really thought I still had a hymen? Although…. _this_ is definitely my new favorite stick to ride."

She started rocking her hips back and forth, not so much letting him in and out of her (she didn't want to let a single inch of him go if she could help it), as pressing and rubbing her clit up and down his crotch, and moving so that his length kept hitting all the most sensitive parts inside of her, pressing into spots she never even knew existed.

Ginny started to growl as she built up a powerful rhythm, and Harry let out a whimper, both from pleasure and frustration, feeling an urge to properly slam into her.

"Oooh yeah, baby, I love those little noises you make," she cooed at him, clawing her fingernails into his chest, "Because I know you're trying to hold them in, aren't you? Don't hold back, Harry, tell me how much you love my pussy."

"Love it. Love it so fucking much. Never want to leave it." Harry struggled to form words as the pleasure coming from his cock assaulted his brain. He was helpless as he looked up at the goddess that was his girlfriend, holding onto her freckled thighs for dear life as she rode him harder and harder.

"Oh yeah, that's what I want to hear," she growled, "I want you completely unable to keep your filthy hands off me. I want you _addicted_ to being inside of me. Shatter all of that willpower of yours."

She was riding him like a madwoman now, her eyes boring into Harry with veela-like fire, betraying something sadistic. "I want you incapable of looking at me or _thinking_ about me without getting hard. I'm going to turn you into as big a slut for my pussy as I am for your co—o— _ooooock_ Harry your wonderful cock I'm going to cum on your cock _fuuuuuuuck!"_

Harry felt his lover's spasming pussy clench around his cock, and watched as her whole body twitched in pleasure, her restless hands roaming involuntarily all over her own perfect body, from her hips, to her bouncing breasts, to the top of her head, bunching her silky red hair on top of it.

Ginny was slowing after coming down from the high of her climax, but the sight and feeling of her, combined with Harry's own desperate need for release, broke his control. He bent his knees to support her with his thighs, grabbed her hip tightly with one hand and the back of her neck with the other, and started lifting and slamming her down onto his cock.

Ginny's eyes flew open as her boyfriend started properly _fucking_ her harder than she thought was possible. Now, it was his turn to growl and her turn to whimper, their voices mixed with the wet sounds of their flesh loudly slapping together, sending shockwaves of pleasure through them.

" _Mine,"_ was the only actual word he could form.

"Yours," she agreed weakly. She loved that she could bring out this side of him. The considerate gentleman of a moment ago was gone, replaced by something mindless and ancient. Something that knew nothing but an animalistic, masculine instinct to _fuck._ To _mate._ To _breed._

Every time he drove into her, he was rewarded with a cry of pleasure from Ginny, and every time he withdrew, her core muscles involuntarily resisted, so desperate she was to keep him inside her. But there was nothing she could do. Her mind was so shredded and her body so limp that she was simply along for the ride. She was no longer Ginny Weasley, the feisty tomboy and Quidditch prodigy. She wasn't even a person anymore. She was an object. A tight wet hole for him to jerk himself off into. He was in such control as he lifted her up and down that he was basically masturbating with her. It was her only purpose in life and she was happy to fulfill it.

" _Fuck,_ Gin, _Fuck,"_ Harry grunted as he sped up his violations of her, and she knew he was close. But even now, he was holding back, trying to last longer.

"Harry," she said firmly, and he met her eyes once again. Using just her eyes and voice, she took back control.

" _Cum,_ Harry," she commanded, "Cum in my tight pussy. Fill me up. _Now!"_

Harry _roared_ as he slammed her down to his hilt, penetrating her as far as he could and staying there as his cock shot rope after rope deep into her womb.

Ginny could feel his cock twitching and pumping inside of her, and she felt the explosion of hot liquid into her innermost core, and it was the hottest thing she had ever experienced. The knowledge that he was cumming inside of her, that he was leaving a piece of him in her, _claiming_ her, pushed Ginny over the edge and she reached her own climax again.

She threw her head back and screamed at the ceiling as she came as she had never cum in her life before. It consumed her. Her cunt was squeezing his cock ravenously, hungrily drinking every last drop of cum from him, and for a flashing moment the same ancient instinct took hold of her, and she silently prayed that he had impregnated her, as if the force of her orgasm had sent her shattered mind careening years into the future.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, both their bodies went so limp that she couldn't sit up, and he couldn't hold her, and she lifelessly collapsed into his chest, her hair flipping forward and enveloping him in a red curtain that overwhelmed him with her scent, and as far as Harry knew this was heaven.

They didn't know how long they lay there, desperately trying to catch their breath, before finally settling into each other's embrace. They both drifted between sleep and consciousness for a time, still connected, until Ginny lifted herself up just enough to look him in the eyes.

"Well….that was…."

"Good?" Harry finished.

Ginny buried her face in his chest as she laughed. He was back to his old self.

"'Good?'" she repeated, "That's one way to put it. I would have gone with 'a mind-shredding spiritual experience,' myself."

"Oh damn," Harry laughed, "I can't help but agree, though. It's gonna be hard to go back."

Ginny frowned at him. "Go back? To what? You plan on friendzoning me again?"

"No! I mean going back to being in bed alone. I'm going to find a way to shag you at school, but it certainly won't be as often as I'd like."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Oh Harry, are you under the mistaken impression that you _aren't_ going to be fucking me every single day?"

Harry smiled and stroked her hair. "As lovely as that would be, Gin, I don't see how it can happen. We're two students with a shit-ton of work — you're in your _O.W.L._ year — and no rooms to ourselves."

"Um, I'm going to fuck you in your dormitory," Ginny said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You know girls are able to go into the boys' dormitories, Hermione has gone up there before."

"Not to _shag!"_ said Harry incredulously, "At least, as far as I know. I share that room with four other blokes, two of which are your brother and ex-boyfriend!"

"We can silence your curtains, and you can give me your Invisibility Cloak," she said reasonably, as if in a classroom debate, "Can you think of a _better_ use for it in the middle of the night?"

"...Well not right _now,_ " Harry muttered.

Ginny battered her eyelashes at him, as if she were shyly flirting with him and not currently laying nude on top of him with his flaccid cock still inside her. "You want to be a good boyfriend, don't you Harry? You want to make your girlfriend happy?"

"More than anything, love." He meant it. Killing Voldemort seemed so unimportant right now compared to making Ginny happy.

"Well, to be a good boyfriend to a cumslut like me," she said in a sweet voice, "then you have to cum in her every day. It just comes with the territory." At her words, she _felt_ his cock come to life again, growing and hardening inside of her.

"Mmmmm" she hummed, starting to kiss his neck, "You know I can never get enough of you, baby, but after the pounding my pussy just took I'm a little sore."

"That's okay," Harry whispered to her, wrapping his arms around her small form, "I can go easy on you."

"Don't tease me or I'll have to ride you to hell and back again." But she didn't resist as he rolled them so that she was on her back, once again completely engulfed in his weight pressing her down into the bed.

He kissed her deeply, but not as fiercely as they had before, lazily swirling his tongue around hers as he built up a slow, gentle rhythm, gliding in and out of her wetness with ease, and she moaned softly into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. This was a different kind of bliss. A less intense kind of pleasure, what made it wonderful was how easy and natural it felt. No desperate, instinctual mating, just enjoying their bodies being joined the way they were meant to be.

With all their aggressive, pent up frustration and energy expended, they were finally making love.

As Harry's thrusts started getting faster, he broke his kiss so he could breathe, but rested his forehead against Ginny's and looked into her beautiful chocolate eyes.

"Ginny, I'm close again."

"So am I, love. Cum in me and I'll cum with you, I love the feeling of you cumming in me _so much._ "

His rhythm increased more. "Oh yeah, Gin, I'm close. Love you so fucking much. Gonna cum in you. _I'm cumming_."

"Yes, love, please!" She latched onto him by wrapping her powerful legs around his bum and drew him as close as she could as she felt him plant another load of cum inside of her, and held onto his head for dear life as she furiously kissed him. The now-familiar feeling triggered her own orgasm and she nearly sobbed into his mouth from all the happy chemicals her brain was swimming in.

Finally, they were both completely spent, and he drew himself out of her (his cock felt so cold and exposed to the outside world without her inviting warmth) and laid down next to her, giving his bicep to her to use as a pillow as she backed up into him and they just lay there spooning for a while.

When he couldn't put it off anymore, he whispered into her ear, "Gin, I've got to get back."

"Mmmm, noooo," she whined sleepily, turning around and burying her face into his neck, inhaling his scent. She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, desperately clinging to him. "You're not allowed to leave. Ever."

"We're getting up early tomorrow. Do you _want_ your mother finding me here?"

"I don't care," she said with complete honesty.

"Well _I_ do. If a raging Molly Weasley chases me away from your house forever, I'll have to find another way to floo back to school, and that would be a _big_ inconvenience."

He removed himself from her limbs and got up from the bed. She sat up to sadly watch him get dressed. There would never be a more tragic sight than Harry Potter putting _on_ clothes.

Once he was done, he gave her one last passionate kiss, hoping to pour every ounce of his love into her, before wishing her good night and leaving through her bedroom door.

Ginny resigned herself to also getting dressed, since the room seemed so much colder with him gone. When she got back into the bed, it somehow seemed far too big for just one person. She was more determined than ever to never go another day of her life without making love to her incredible boyfriend.

She laid back, closed her eyes, and replayed her recent memories as she drifted off into pleasant dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this fic. But I'm planning a sequel one which continues after they go back to school.


End file.
